Mi Chica
by saphire2moon
Summary: (Rated M for sex scenes) Set after the final events of Mass Effect. Brianna Dirce had always been invisible, a wave among many, quiet and alone. But being assigned to the crew of one Commander James Vega might just bring Brianna to her true self, and help them both find love in their hearts.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N.: Alright, here it goes, my second Mass Effect M Fic. I love James, he is just so awesome, but….I'm a Shenko fan so I had to do something for my favorite muscle head. I hope you guys like Bree, as she's a little part of me._

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Character from the Mass Effect Series, they belong to Bioware. Bree is my own creation though._

_PS Any events of the game I'm sorry about, but I didn't want Shepard to die, and having all the technology break as it were was so sad and depressing so, here is how I saw the after months of the Mass Effect events._

Chapter 1: Just a Soldier

This hadn't been her plan at all. Even as she thought this, Gunnery Officer Brianna Dirce, stared at the newly commissioned Terminus V-1, unsure is she should even board the vessel. Her knees were like jelly, at most. Her heart was pounding. She gulped once.

"Come on, Officer." Her chief called, irritated with her slowness. Bree jolted at the yell, nodding and running over the docking bridge. "Sorry, sir, I'm sorry."

Her chief just rolled his eyes at her. "Try for some semblance of dignity, Dirce, it's just a ship."

He's wrong about that, she's a beauty, she thought, discreetly glancing at the Alliance ship's exterior. The beautiful lettering on her hull gleamed with a new polish, but it didn't fool Bree for a moment. This was a war ship, through and through.

Her chief didn't seem to think so. "You'd think that after the Reaper attack on Earth, and Commander Shepard ending the war, we wouldn't need useless cruisers like this one."

Bree wisely kept her mouth shut as they were admitted onto the airlock port. The machine's beeped, indicating that they should stay as still as possible while the scanners did their jobs.

"So," her chief said a slight sneer on his face. "We now report to the CO of the Terminus, Commander James Vega. Have you been made aware of this?"

"Yes, sir, I have," she answered. As you have informed me every day since we were assigned to the Terminus, she thought, resisting rolling her own eyes. The chief had taken every opportunity to complain about the assignment, calling the Commander a "war-hungry jarhead, with little to no brains". Bree, having never met the war hero, could not say anything to defend one of the saviors of Earth.

The doors opened, and a young female tech walked up to them. "Hello, you must be Gunnery Chief Jake Fredricks, and…."

"Officer Brianna Dirce," her chief said for her, brushing Bree aside. He walked on with the tech, leaving Bree to wait, floundering for something to do. Should she follow, should she stay here and wait? Confused, and just a little bit more pissed at her chief's conservative attitude towards her, Bree spotted a nearby empty computer chair, and promptly sat down with a huff. Five years she had served under that hypocritical bastard, and for five years she tolerated his blatant abuse of her talents. It was only by a fluke she made it out of soldier and into officer to begin with. Now, here she was serving under an extraordinary vessel, one of her hero's, and all she had to show for it was a meek attitude and a fear of being called up on insubordination. Staring at the red lighted screen, and intrigued by the various numbers being posted, Bree zoned off.

"Hey," a voice called from behind her. Bree jolted again, turning in the chair, to see a man glaring at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You're not supposed to be sitting there."

Bree, realizing she was once again about to be scolded for her actions, quickly leapt up and stepped aside, giving the chair a wide berth. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know anybody was using the chair."

He didn't look any more pleased. "Who are you anyway? Are you even supposed to be here? Get off the ship immediately!"

Great, she thought, lifted up her hands for peace. Just great. "Wait, I-"

"Do I have to find you're commanding officer to have you removed from the premises?"

Bree felt sweat pour down her back. This is a wonderful start to my new assignment, really. Trying to get a word in, she was interrupted by a hand grasping her shoulder.

"Relax, Officer Houston, I do believe this chica is one of us now."

Bree felt the light Hispanic voice all the way down to her toes, and was hard pressed to keep a shudder from escaping. A happy little ping went off in her head. The hand on her shoulder was firm, yet didn't hurt or bite. Turning her head, Bree was greeted with a large man with equally large shoulders. Gulping again, both from fear and a hint of lust, Bree stared into the light brown eyes of Commander James Vega. He was smiling, but there was a hint of steel underneath it as he glanced at the Officer before them. "It's okay, just go back to work for now."

"Yes, sir," the man said, giving Bree a quick glare, before sitting down to continue whatever work he was on. The Commander led her over to the CIC. There, arms crossed in contrition, was her chief. He was glaring at her. "I'm sorry, sir, the Officer was supposed to be following me to the armory, but apparently got separated from us. It won't happen again."

Bree cast her gaze downwards, feeling a blush spread over her cheeks in a combination of anger and embarrassment. How dare that pompous ass blame her for his own actions, he had no right at all. But of course, he did, as he was her higher-up.

"No, it's cool Chief Fredricks just a miscommunication on all our parts. Now, since we're all here, why don't we go to the shuttle bay to talk about your accommodations?"

"I quite agree, sir." And with that, they started to walk away. Bree was once again on the receiving end of being ignored. They mentioned her sure, in a passing glance, but again she was left behind. Unsure, once more, whether that included her or not, Bree stood there. It wasn't until they reached the elevator that Bree really felt ignored. Gritting her teeth, she let her arms hang by her sides and wait.

"Hey, chica, you coming or what?"

Bree's head whipped up to see the Commander, with his large arm holding the elevator open, staring at her with amused eyes. Blinking, as if she heard him wrong, Bree didn't move until he gave a 'come-on' gesture with his head. Still confused, she pointed at herself. He laughed. It was deep, but not loud, almost like a chuckle. There was that ping again.

"Yeah, you chica; get over here."

Bree rushed over to get into the elevator. As she ducked under his muscular arm, she caught a faint whiff of something that smelled faintly of musk. It was a good kind though, a manly smell. All the way in the elevator, Bree launched herself into the corner to keep out of the higher-up's way. James let the elevator close and turned to give her a glance.

"Maybe you do get distracted a lot."

Bree felt the blush rise on her face again, which she promptly hid behind the cloak of her auburn hair. She ran her fingers over the curled tangles and tried not to notice her superior officer's disapproving stare in her direction. Used to that feeling, she didn't bother to look up. It was quiet in the elevator as it made the short trip to the shuttle bay. The whole time, Bree was fully aware of the hulking male specimen in front of her, absently tapping his finger on his folded arms. Bree took in his appearance. He was huge, in stature and height, with a head of military short, spiked brown hair; with tattoos littering his arms and shoulders, peeking out over the onboard 'regs'. He was commanding alright, and Bree understood how this guy could have survived the Reaper invasion. Her perusal did not go unnoticed as her chief coughed loudly enough to bring her back from her lust filled thoughts. He was a prime example of the male species alright.

"Anyway, sir, I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

The Commander spared him a glance before walking off the opened elevator to the shuttle bay. "No, we haven't amigo, perhaps you might fill me in as I only have your entire file on hand."

As he walked away from them, Bree felt a smile grace her lips, even as her chief scowled. He wiped it away though, heading after him to the far corner of the shuttle bay. Bree took the chance to glance around, noticing that there was only two other people on this level, one of which was busy working at a terminal near a transport carrier. It was quiet, only the hum of the engine above and the whir of working tools could be heard, and the sound of footsteps and mumbled talking in the armory. Realizing she was left again, Bree rushed over to join her superiors. The chief was talking to the Commander.

"As you are aware, I work in quiet settings, and prefer not to be disturbed at any time. I ask that I be put in a quiet room with roommates who respect that quiet."

Commander Vega let one dark eyebrow lift at that statement and Bree couldn't help noticing the scar that ran just near his eye, over the eyebrow. Plus the one over his right cheek bone that stretched over his finely shaped nose. He had one on his bottom lip too, just in the corner where someone might nibble on it before drifting to tongue that perfect taut mouth….

Bree shook her head, and looked away even as he glanced at her. When she looked back, he was smiling at her, kindly though, with a hint to tell her he might know exactly what she was thinking. God, she hoped he didn't.

"And what about you, chica, what's your story?"

Bree tried not to take the nickname to heart, even though the sound of it sent those annoying shivers down her spine. "Well, my name is-"

"She's my assistant, as it were," Fredricks commented. Bree turned to glare at him briefly and almost spit venom before she remembered the thin line she was already on. So instead she gritted her teeth and kept silent. Commander Vega, though, didn't quite like that.

"Her file expressively states she's at an Officer ranking, with almost seven years training under her belt. I think, Gunnery Chief, she can speak for herself."

Fredricks looked instantly stunned, his face showing both rage and confusion. Nobody had so blatantly stripped him before. Bree hid her face, so neither saw the grin that appeared over her pink lips. Finally, she thought.

"So," Commander Vega continued, glancing back at Bree, before sitting on the table behind him. He crossed his arms, letting the muscles of his arms and chest bulge. Bree gulped again, feeling heat gather in her belly. Man, she thought, just man.

"Um, well, I'm Officer Brianna Dirce, sir. I've been assigned with Chief Fredricks on assignment to keep control and watch over the weapons used on this ship and with your team, as well as provide any needed tech support that is necessary, sir."

"Alright, Brianna Dirce-"

"Bree, sir."

There was a pause, and Bree heard Fredrick hiss between his teeth. She gulped at the confused look to pass over Commander Vega's face. It was replaced with a light smile. "Bree then. Do you have any preference to room and board?"

Bree hadn't really given it much thought, actually.

_Your room, sir. Your bed, sir._

Bree mentally slapped herself silly, giving a look of supposed thinking. "Well, I guess anywhere the crew is, is fine. I don't expect any special treatment sir. I'm a soldier."

While she ignored her chief's second hiss of breath, she noticed a light spark in the Commander's eyes. "Yes you are chica. Yes you are."


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N. Alright-y then. Here is chapter 2. As Always enjoy. Smexy-time comes next chapter so, just be patient._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, it belongs to Bioware. Bree is of my own production. Thank you for not suing me._

Chapter 2: Getting To Know You

A week had gone by on the Terminus V-1, and Bree loved it. At least, she loved her down time. Working with Chief Fredricks was as annoying as always with his comments on her inability to perform correctly, and the jibes against her gender, hidden beneath critiques. The other crew members were okay though.

All in all, it was okay. Every now and then, Commander Vega would wander down after a mission to check on the equipment, and exchange conversation with some on the crew members, including Fredricks, who always had a sneer on his face when he saw the larger man come in.

"Great," he mumbled one day. "I am not in the mood for some jarhead commenting on how some weapon back fired on him." He turned to Bree, noticing her cleaning an N-7 Avenger. He smirked. "Alright, Officer, you're up. I have to run up to my quarters for a bit, so just tell the Commander I am unavailable. Understand?"

Bree tried not to let the sarcasm hit her voice too hard. "Sir, yes sir."

And with that, the weasel ran off. Bree shook her head, and went back to admiring the Commander. Every time she saw him, he got better and better looking. Was it just her or did the tattoo on his neck look more and more tongue worthy? Stop it, she mentally berated herself. Don't even go there. One, he would never be interested, and two it's against regulations.

_But it would be so worth it_.

Mental slap number two thousand and thirty three, thank you inner turmoil, she thought again. Her heart began racing when she looked up again to see him approaching the armory. He looked around once, before shrugging and continuing over. Bree attempted to look like she was actually working.

"Hey, chica, where's the stiff-neck?"

Bree blinked at him, eyes wide. "The w-what?"

He smiled, and her heart jumped again. "You're superior, Officer. I needed to talk to him about a malfunction in the loading clip on my heavy pistol." Bree tried not to laugh at the exact-ness of his words to the chief's. "Oh, he had to-well-um, go up to his room. He said something about a project or…something." She was floundering and she knew it, but even as she winced she heard his 'ahh'.

"Good. I've wanted to talk to you alone."

Bree dropped the gun on the table with a large crash, and tried to grab all the tools that rolled with the impact. He grabbed what he could as well. Bree shirked away from his body, pulling back to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Me, sir? Why?"

He had an expression of mild confusion and slight amusement on his features again. It made him really irresistible as he got this little crinkle between his brow, one that made her want to run a finger over it to smooth it out. Great, she thought, mental slap number two thousand and thirty four.

"Yeah," he said, walking over to take a steel chair, and drag it over by her workstation. "I've gotten to know a lot about my crew-habit from my previous Commander- and have yet to learn a thing about the pretty little Officer in the shuttle bay."

Bree felt her face flush at the word 'pretty'. She didn't consider herself as such, and never thought anyone else would either. "Not much to know, sir. It's a waste of time, really. You've already read my record when I joined the crew, so-"

"Yeah, that's true, but I don't know you."

She fell silent, and could see the smug smirk cross his face. "Alright, let's start with something simple. Tell me about your family, where you grew up, hobbies, that sort of thing."

Bree didn't know what to say, no one had really asked before. It was always job first, personal life later. "Um, well, where do I start?"

Commander Vega leaned back against the wall and crossed his legs to get comfortable. Bree gulped again, and tried not to stare. "Well, chica, you can start with why you prefer Bree, to Brianna."

Bree figured that was as good a start as any. It was like an interview, or a test from the Alliance division. "My mother's name is Brianna too, and she prefers that. I didn't. Plus it was much easier for people to say Bree then Brianna, so I went by that."

He nodded, smiling. "I like it, suits your appearance. Now tell me about your family?"

"I grew up in Lower Manhattan with my family. I was the baby girl of the group with four older brothers and my mom."

He nodded and gave a 'go-ahead' gesture, so she continued. "My father flitted out after my eighth birthday, being her third marriage. It's not that my mother's a bad person, it's just she is bad at love. Mom does right by us, but it's hard raising five children by your-self." Bree sat down and got as comfortable as possible with the Commander staring at her.

"My brothers all went into the Alliance when they were eighteen. So when I turned eighteen it made sense that I should too. They taught me a lot about weapons so it was something I was good at. I stayed at the Academy for three years before I got my Firearms License and trained myself in basic tech skills."

"Yeah," he said at length, folding his arms behind his head. "I had to go through that too. Never easy is it?"

Bree let herself smile a little. "No, but when you're a little girl from the lower part of town, you don't get noticed quite as much. Anyway, mom was pleased, though she wished I was a little more girly. So, seven years since my three years training, I end up here. This, if I might be frank, is a dream come true for me."

He seemed taken aback by the statement. "Why?"

Bree bite her lip gently, and averted her eyes. "Well, you're the main reason, sir, mostly."

"Me? Why me?"

Bree wasn't sure how much trouble she would get for saying the truth, but it couldn't be any worse than keeping it a secret. He was going to be around a lot anyway.

"Well, you're kind of a hero, sir."

"Me," he asked in that same confused tone.

"Yeah, after you and Commander Shepard-and the others of her crew- defeated the Reapers, you all got kind of famous around what was left of the survivors. I wasn't on Earth, having been working with the Crucible, but even then you reached our ears. I just thought, 'wow wouldn't it be so awesome to serve under one of them' and seven months later, here I am."

There was a silence. Bree bite her lip again, cursing herself for saying anything at all. It was stupid, but even before she met him, from the stories she'd heard, she had developed a sort of legend crush on him. He was soldier-a lieutenant who had risen in N-7 to Commander all due to his actions on the battle field. He was a man that many soldiers aspired to, and from all the women's reports good looking too. Bree could certainly verify those rumors herself.

The Commander finally shifted, making his boots clunk on her floor as he sat up. "That's interesting, chica. So serving under me is a dream coming true?"

She looked away from his gaze. "Well, yes sir, it kind of is."

He grinned like a wolf. "You've given me a lot of leverage, chica. I hope you're prepared for what I could do with that information up my sleeves." Was he flirting? Bree tried to process the information, but was unable to due to the lack of speech ability. He stood up then with a slap to his thighs and stretched. Bree's eyes fell to his chest as it expanded. Dear God, was that a six pack? Her eyes couldn't tear themselves away from his chest even after he stopped stretching.

"Careful, chica, you're going to make me blush."

Bree's eyes sprang up to his face, wide and shocked at her own behavior. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm so sorry. I was-well that is- I was, um-"

He laughed, and another little ping went off in her head. "Está bien. It's a sad day when I mind a pretty girl staring at me." Bree didn't know what to say. Before she could blink, he reached over and flicked a strand of hair that had been covering her eyes and pushed it back behind her ears again.

"There we go. I like to look at your green eyes, they're very pretty."

Bree's face exploded in a blush before she averted her eyes to the side. He chuckled again. "I'll talk to you later, chica."

And he walked away again, sauntering actually, with a loud and happy whistle. Bree let out the breath she'd been holding in since he stood up, and let her head fall to the table, where she thumped it twice for good measure.


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N: Chapter 3 Guys, coming faster now. Once I get to a certain point these might slow down a little due to incompletion on my part. I just love how Bree and James interact with each other. Well, now we are going to get a little more intimate interaction between the two. Read and review if you're able. I always like feedback on the work so feel free to say something that you like or don't like and I'll review it myself._

_Disclaimer: Because it's required. I don't own Mass Effect, it is property of Bioware and other technological stuff. Bree is a character of my own creation. Thank you_

Chapter 3: Later Night in Mess Hall

Three weeks since she'd joined the Terminus V-1 crew, and Bree realized something very beneficial to her. At precisely 11:30 Earth time, the mess hall, which consisted of a large table beside a smaller kitchenette, and a littler table in the corner with a few chairs scattered about, would be completely empty. Not a soul would be eating, or relaxing. They would either be at their posts, or in bed trying to catch a few winks before the next shift. This gave Bree the much needed quiet time she so desperately wanted. No one around, she thought, shifting herself out of the corner of the ship and walking over to the large table.

She sat for an hour, counting her breaths as she timed them with the hum of the engine. It felt good, just having this quiet time alone. It gave her mind time to rest. The sound of the elevator sliding open brought her back from that peace. Bree stood, panicked, though she didn't know why. Seeing a storage box in the far corner, she rushed over and hid behind it. Again, she didn't know why, but she felt like she was breaking the rules being here. She broke enough of them unintentionally as it was. The sound of someone walking over to the fridge was heard and the sound of a bottle opening and a sigh came to her ears. Risking being caught, Bree peeked up over the rim of the box and felt her breath stop. Standing by the small fridge in the low light was Commander Vega. A shirtless, rumpled Commander Vega.

Gulping down the saliva that had pooled in her mouth, Bree continued to stare, unafraid of being caught from this direction. There wasn't enough light in this corner to see anyway. So she stared all she wanted, letting her gaze roam over his tattooed body. He was packed! And the wonderful and intricate designs etched into his skin made the bronze shade that much more appealing. His hair, what there was of it, was sticking up in odd angles, like he had just woken up, and he leaned against the counter with a bottle of Earth's best beer.

As she watched the Commander wandered over to the table and sat with his back to her. It was then she noticed the N-7 tattoo on his left shoulder blade. Trying to get a closer look, Bree leaned farther out. And then promptly she yelped when the box tipped over on the floor, giving a large crash.

The Commander whirled around prepared for an attack, but lowered his guard when he spotted the small pale girl desperately attempting to merge with the wall behind her. He had to laugh as she made the cutest little picture. Bree gulped again, this time out of fear of being caught sneaking around her CO.

Commander Vega placed the bottle on the table and walked over to her. He saw her cringe just slightly before standing up with what little dignity she allowed. She was dressed in a pair of Alliance pajamas, blue and long, both in pants and sleeve. It almost swallowed the 5'5" girl before him. He smiled as she dusted herself off, and saluted him. "Good evening, sir."

Bree attempted to be somewhat respectful, but had a hard time with it as his bare chest was only a few feet away from her.

_God, I wish he would just hold me against it, just once_.

Bree studied the tattoos up close now, and realized that the one on his neck and shoulder was a fancy weaving pattern, whereas he had hash marks on his chest. Her eyes gazed toward the flat disks of his nipples and felt her gaze journey downwards stopping at the thin hair just below his navel and beyond. Bree caught herself and lifted her gaze up again. He was smiling. "You like what you see, chica?"

Bree opened her mouth to comment, but wisely shut it. Any answer she gave was going to get her into trouble she just knew it. So instead she walked over calmly and sat at the table he had been previously occupying. Sitting with her back straight, she laid her hands in her lap. The Commander sat again, in his spot, this time facing her. She was once again drawn to the fact that he was just so….male.

Everything about him screamed sexiness and hard lust. She was surprised he didn't get accosted more by the other women on the ship. Then again, most were afraid to go against the chain of command, what with it being slightly uneven since the Reapers. Bree sat calmly and watched him watch her. He was contemplating her, casually sipping his beer, and examining her thoroughly.

Really thoroughly, as she noticed his gaze drifted passed her face and towards her chest. She tried to puff out what she could, but didn't think it would make much difference. She wasn't all that busty, and was not afraid to admit she hadn't been for years.

Still, he stared, and Bree noticed his brow lift ever so slightly.

What that meant, she didn't know.

"So," he said finally, breaking her away from her last thought. "You never did tell me your hobbies, Officer."

"Must I tell them now, sir?"

"You're going to make me make it an order?"

She didn't answer. He didn't need one. "Alright, yes, you have to, Officer."

Bree took a deep breath and tried to focus on something other than his amazingly hot body not two feet from her reach. "Well, I like guns, for one."

He nodded. "I figured that one, any particular reason?"

"Well, there are so many kinds of guns out there, and each one has a unique feature. I find it fascinating which ones do what, and how they work. When I was really little I used to take apart everything I'd find just to see how it worked. If I couldn't then I'd ask my brothers for help."

"So," he started, taking another sip. "Any particular gun you like, size?

"I prefer the larger models, as they have much greater fire power, to the smaller ones, which are too easily expended."

It seemed like a feasible answer, but the silence that ensued made her think back really hard on those words. Her face heated up, even as his smirk spread over the rim of the bottle. "Really now, chica, you don't have to worry about that."

Bree stood up swiftly her hands planted hard, unsure if she was going to run or jump him. His eyes sparked, but he didn't stand to challenge her. She glared at him. "That's not what I meant and you know it! Sir," she added on as she came to her senses. He continued to grin. "Oh, I know what you meant, mi chica. Don't worry."

Embarrassed, and infuriated, Bree slide her chair back hard and stomped off. She didn't hear the scrapping of a chair, or the feel of the air move. What she did hear was the slight swear in Spanish that brushed her ears as two hands grabbed her shoulders. Determined, without a care for regulations, Bree moved with the pressure to chew out her CO.

A pair of hard lips stopped any words that attempted to escape her mouth; hard and firm, powerful lips that were accompanied by a pair of strong and sturdy hands tangling themselves in her hair and the cloth on her back. Bree was stunned for a full two seconds before she pushed her body back against his and threw her arms around those wonderfully broad shoulders. The hum of approval that came from him was refreshing and vibrated through her. She was in his arms, against his chest, and kissing his lips. Bree sighed and melted into his embrace, only giving a slight squeak when a wet tongue teased her bottom lip, before teeth gently bit into the flesh.

On a moan, Bree offered her mouth like a feast, letting him take whatever he wanted. And take he did. His tongue molded and teased every crevice it could reach, twisting with her own tongue in a dance Bree was unaccustomed to. So enraptured by the tongue and teeth of his mouth, she missed the stray hand from her back move down. She moaned in an arch as his hand cupped her butt pushing her forward into him.

And she felt a delightful pressure press against her belly, heating up her core to the ultimate highest level. Determined to take the flag and go with it, she let one of her arms slide off and trailed a hand over his chest. Her fingers flowed down, brushing hot skin, and the silver metal of his dog tags before going to the side. She was pleased when a sharp inhale of breath accompanied the movement of her nails against his left nipple. She felt dazed as the small bud hardened and the flesh around it gained goosebumps. He released her mouth, only to dip his head to suck on her neck.

Bree tipped it sideways to give him all that he could want, still rubbing her hand over his torso, letting her fingers trace over the muscled skin, through every dip and ridge.

She was gasping now, sure his mouth was leaving behind a small red reminder, and twisted when the hand previously on her ass, turned to more pressing matters.

Her breasts, which she previously believed were incapable of being huge, were swollen, tight against her shirt, and her mind wanted something, someone to free them. The sneaky hand spread over her breast through the cloth, grasping it within the palm. Bree gasped, letting her limp head fall back and closed her eyes to his touch. His lips pulled back from her neck.

James let his eyes drift to the woman in his arms. The sight that greeted him could have hardened an impotent. The previous shy girl from the shuttle bay had become a fully heated woman, with her glassy green eyes closed in pure pleasure. He felt the strained erection in his pants harden even more. With a pained groan he trailed kisses over her collar bone, wanting desperately to tear the shirt off of her, and bury his face in those beautiful globes.

He couldn't recall the last time he had wanted this so much with a specific person.

Bree moaned when he pushed her closer to him, letting her know how hard he really was. He had a feeling she was just as wet as he was hard. James threw caution to the wind and pulled his hand out of her soft hair-it truly was the softest he'd ever touched-and let his fingers pull the shirt's buttons free.

Yes, Bree thought, yes, please, free me from those binds. She reached over and did what she had wanted to do since she first saw him. She let her tongue slide over the weaving over his neck. She felt her CO shiver and moan, losing his ability to move for a second before returning to the task in a fevered manner. Bree felt giddy, joy bubbling up within her and she licked and nipped at his neck, tracing the weavings with the tip of her tongue.

For the first time, he spoke. It was harsh and strained with a tint of teasing underneath the obvious pain. "You have until the end of time to stop doing that, mi chica."

Bree giggled, running her hand over the small marks on his upper chest. Feeling bold, since he wasn't undressing her fast enough, she reached down and licked one of the marks. She felt him jolt and shudder, and she smiled before gently blowing on the wet mark. He cursed vehemently in Spanish.

"Ah-mujer, where did you learn this stuff!? You're killing me here."

Bree, looked up, and caught his dark gaze, he was sweating, panting for breath, so she smiled, feeling like hyperventilating herself.

"Not yet, sir."

He groaned closing his eyes, dragging her head up again to slam his lips to hers. Bree was straining, close to the edge, feeling the wetness between her thighs, the heat in her belly, she felt so tight and energized at the same time. When she reached for him, she sighed in wonder.

That was when the door to the elevator slid open loudly. They both stopped, staring in wide shock as the sound of footsteps and mumbling came from the other side. Bree leapt back, untangling herself from him and ran as fast as she could behind the boxes again.

James cursed internally as he rushed over to sit down again. The footsteps came closer and he crossed his legs in an attempt to at least try to hide his arousal. He knew how he looked though. He just hoped that whoever it was wasn't really awake.

Bree was curled in a ball, hiding in the dark, trying to calm her breathing, and her arousal. She squeezed her thighs together, and bit her lip to stop the cry that wanted to escape. She risked a glance to see none other than Chief Fredricks walk into the room. Seeing him was like a slap in the face. Bree hid back down again, fearful he might hear her. Fearful he might see the Commander wasn't exactly in the best of shape.

James could have wrung that annoying jerk's neck. He just had to pick tonight to do a random walk, had to pick tonight to interrupt what was most likely going to be the best sex in his life.

Although, he had to admit, doing it in the mess hall would not be a good idea at all. With that thought in mind, James prepared to bullshit his way around the Gunnery Chief and get back to the mujer bonita behind the boxes. He intended to move this to more secure quarters.

After ten minutes of subtly but forcefully shoving the stiff-neck's ass back to bed, James let out a breath, and stood to go back to his chica. When he looked behind the boxes though, there was no one.

She had fled, like a scared mouse. He swore violently, enough that even his abuela would have blushed. "Stupid son of a bitch, he made her rabbit on me." Sighing in sexual frustration, he debated tracking the little chica down, but decided against it. He didn't think it was often the vixen came out to play. He didn't want to push the limits.

But damn a cold shower did not sound appealing.

! #$%^&*(! #$%^&*( #$%^&*(

It had been two days since Bree's little 'incident' as she decided to refer to it as. Since then she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the sexy as sin Commander, and she didn't want to. The morning after the 'incident'-after a long night with no sleep-she had snuck her way down to the shuttle bay and locked herself at her desk in the attempts to avoid any conversation with anyone else in the vicinity. Taking a shower that morning had been disasterous, as when she looked in the mirror, hair dripping back, she noticed the nice little red mark brightly shining on her neck. Needless to say when she saw the other women enter, Bree hightailed out of the bathroom. Dressed in an N-7 hoodie, in the attempt to cover the little mark, she had sat staring into space for hours. The chief had scolded her left and right, telling her to get her head out of the clouds and actually attempt to work on something useful.

So she walked over to the ground team's equipment and did inventory. When she got to the Commander's armor, she paused, almost afraid to check the equipment. _Stupid, don't get shy now you've been doing this for how many weeks._ She sighed as for once the inner voice was right. Just because looking at the armor made her think of Commander Vega, which in turn made her think about how Commander Vega's body felt, didn't mean she was going to skip the routine check. Gritting her teeth and steeling against images best left untold, she grabbed the armor plating roughly; and winced when a small photo fell out of the inner webbing. Bree looked around to see if anyone had seen, but with luck they were all in their own heads. She bent down to pick up the small photograph. It was of Commander Vega. Well, the Commander and a group of people. Curious, Bree walked it and the armor plating over to her desk, checked to make sure Fredricks wasn't nearby, and examined the photo again. It was of a team of soldiers. As far as she could tell, they were an Alliance group. Commander Vega was in the far right of the group, smiling and giving the symbolic peace sign, which many of the men were doing as well. At his side though there was another man, older, who was upright, but even in the photo amusement shone in his eyes.

She figured this must have been one of his teams long ago. Feeling instantly intrusive, Bree shoved the photo back into the webbing and gave her examination.

When she was done, her mind wondered again. Why was she so afraid? Clearly, she liked the Commander, more than liked. And for all her squealing he obviously liked her too. She couldn't really find much fault in the man. He was a fine specimen, kind yet tough, a man who believed in hard work before soft politics, and after every mission, his armor needed to be checked. It always had burn marks, dents, and various signs of battle. He no doubt took the direct approach with each of his missions. So why was she pulling back?

_Maybe it's time you stop being the background wuss for once._

Bree winced as for the second time today that inner voice spoke the truth. Maybe it was time. As she stood, a spark of determination in her eyes, her omni-tool blinked. Confused she opened the channel.

_A.N: Huh? First time I've put an ending note in this series. Oh well. I hope you liked it. I'm hoping to put out another couple more before Christmas so if you have something you'd like me to cover tell me now or forever hold your peace. RXR everybody!_

_Dante: Why do you always end that way?_

_A.N: Because I can!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N: SMEXY TIME SMEXY TIME! Just thought I should tell you that before I began. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Thank you to all those who have reviewed, it is very sweet of you to like my work. Thanks to DestinyIntertwined for that awesome review, I must say you pumped up my spirits. All of you did. Thank you! Here you guys go, for being such good followers!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own, blah blah blah, this belongs to Mass Effect. Bree is a product of my own imagination blah blah blah._

Chapter 4: True Confessions of an Officer

"Commander Vega, Officer Dirce would like to speak with you privately, sir."

James looked over at the ensign next to the galaxy map. She was stiffly giving him a pad. Lifting an eyebrow, he glanced at the message;

_Can we speak please? Privately._

_Bree_

His yeoman was nothing if not blunt about things. Nodding to her, he headed into the elevator to his cabin. He got the briefest of glimpses into his past on the Normandy every time he walked into the plush cabin. He hadn't lied to Commander Shepard-sorry, just Shepard- then. The cabin was just too soft for him. He'd tried what he could to toughen it up, scattering his clothes around, putting in a lot of tougher looking fish, not those flowy ones Shepard always seemed to like. Still, he had been pleased the first time he'd slept on the bed to find it harder than it looked. His eyes drifted to the com station on his desk. Preparing for the best, or worst, he sent in the call.

"Jennifer, tell Officer Dirce to come to my cabin please."

"Right away, Commander."

He went over to stare at his aquarium for a time, thinking of the old days. Shepard had survived that awful attack, had even come out after several surgeries in top form, minus some blurring in the left eye and minor limping. Now, as far as he knew, she was sitting on Major Alenko's porch, sipping a drink, and enjoying the view with her fiancée. He'd kept in touch with all the crew members, pleased to hear stories of continued soldier status, ambassadorship, and even retirement on the Bahamas(which incidentally did not get hit quite as much). Of course, after the final battle he had come to this, happy to still be useful to the Alliance. Still, he envied Shepard. The woman was engaged, and happy to be with the person she loves.

James smiled, trying to picture the military ready pair getting citizen jobs. He couldn't.

And he should no doubt be focusing on much more pressing matters. His Niña was on her way. James sat down at his desk. He couldn't quite say what made her so appealing to him. Normally, James preferred strong, brash women. The kind of women who were wise in their ways, had a tough exterior, and a wit to match. Someone, he realized, like Shepard. Too bad she had been previously committed before he even came along. Though flirting with Lola had been a blast.

Now, Bree, she was different. Mild, and small, the woman was a bundle of quiet nerves. He suspected the only reason she kept her mouth shut was due to her CO Fredricks. Prick, he thought tapping a finger on a stray report disk. The man was another example of politics make bad bedmates. As far as he was concerned the man only wanted to get a higher position, and didn't care if he got the job done or not. Bree no doubt about it needed a chance to tell the jerk off.

The thought brought him back to the reason Bree was coming up. He hoped it was for the same reasons he wanted to talk to her. Two days without seeing his Niña were too much. Still, when he checked his equipment earlier it smelled faintly like honey, meaning she wasn't completely avoiding him.

Thinking about her, he almost didn't hear the outer elevator shift open.

The knock on the door was a welcome sound.

Almost racing to the door, James paused to catch his breath, feeling only slightly stupid and opened the door. There she was, hands clutched at her stomach, rubbing nervously. She didn't meet his eyes, so he allowed himself a second to admire the green of them. Her hair was down today, curling down, and-he noticed cheerfully-hiding her neck. She was wearing an N-7 hoodie, and a pair of dark pants, with combat boots. He was lucky he'd decided to stick with his ship's uniform, easier to hide the obvious erection now growing in his pants.

"Hello, chica."

She nodded, not moving. "Um," she mumbled, looking almost tired. "May I come in?"

Confused by her lack of energy, James nodded, stepping aside to let her in. She walked forward, not touching him, examining the room. James didn't know why he was nervous all of a sudden, but he was. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bree went to sit stiffly on the small couch in the corner. James, saying nothing, sat beside her.

"So," he began, getting her attention. "What did you want to talk about, chica?"

Bree sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "Where do I start, sir?"

James' eyes narrowed. "That stiff-neck isn't hassling you again? I swear I wish you would report that bastard, he pisses me off."

Bree looked over rapidly, surprised. James smiled. "You think I didn't know he berates and insults you. My pilots know to inform me of anything down there." She blushed lightly, turning her head away. "No, he's the same as always, nothing I can't handle. It's something else, but…"

"Tell me, chica, please?"

She stood, rubbing her arms as if they were cold. James stayed where he was; knowing to let her tell him on her own terms. He could be patient when he wanted to be. When she shuddered, he had to stop himself from grabbing her in his arms. One, it wasn't the time, two she wasn't ready.

"You know how I told you I have four older brothers? Well," she continued when he nodded. "I kind of lied; you see, I _had_ four older brothers."

"I see," he said, understanding. "What happened?"

"The youngest, Trace, he was a soldier. He died five years ago at a mercenary raid. It hurt us, as he was the closest one to my age. But what really hurt was when the second oldest, Brian, was killed during the Sovereign attack. He had become a C-Sec officer on the Citadel, and he was just promoted to Lieutenant." She stopped, taking a deep breath. James understood her pain completely.

"I'm sorry, that's hard, to lose a family member, to lose a brother."

"We survived, at least me and my brothers did. My mom took it hard, going through some depression therapy for a time. A couple years ago, she finally kicked back up again, and started a cooking business off planet." Bree was pacing now, trying to get the man before her to understand where she was going. "Everything was going alright, my eldest brother George was promoted to Captain and Luke had established himself on a colony in the Nebula system. But," she stopped taking a deep breath, and James stood to stand by her. She was crying, lightly, as the tears dripped down her face. Her pale skin was even paler, and it scared him.

"Well, the attack on Earth brought my brother George into the fray. Still, he survived, sending messages when he could, telling us he was alright. During a raid, he went MIA. Nobody found anything on him, nothing at all. Two days ago, they found him. He'd been indoctrinated, shot by his own men, and the only reason they knew it was him was because he had still been wearing his tags." She rubbed her face, and James took her hand in his. "What's worse," she continued, finishing it. "Was that he was indoctrinated by Cerberus men. It hadn't been the Reapers, but humans who had done it to him." She looked up and stared at him, and he was surprised at the punch those shy eyes had. "Those bastards tortured and indoctrinated my brother as a final test, only to have it fail on them. And what does the Alliance do? They send a letter of formal apologies to my mother. It broke her," she concluded, though James knew what that meant. "She's been moved to a psychiatric ward off planet."

James rubbed her shoulders, kissing her hair when she buried her face in his chest. "I feel like it's my fault. Yet I know it wasn't. I just feel like it was."

James pulled her to arms length and gave her a stern look. "Look, no matter what might have happened, you were not responsible, and even if you know that already, believe it."

She shook her head, but James simply hugged her tighter. "A smart woman once told me that blaming yourself was foolish pride. How the choices we make are always going to lead down a path we may or may not want. You, Bree Dirce, were not responsible." He lifted her face to his and kissed her lightly on the lips. They were salty from her tears, and quivered uncontrollably, but he still felt sparks shoot from the point of meeting. She sighed, still shaking, but took the comfort that was there.

Before hurting himself any further, James pulled back. "I know about this feeling. I had it, when I had to make a choice that affected everyone around me. You didn't make that path, Cerberus did. So if you need to blame someone for your brother, blame them."

Bree tried to see past the tears blocking her vision, but they were unstoppable. She sniffled, with as much dignity as possible and moved into the comforting and welcome embrace. She admitted that when she came up here, she had come with the express intention of telling the Commander what had happened.

Now that she had, she didn't know what to do. In the first place she was here, in the Commander's bedroom, her original destination before the call from Luke had come in. He had told her everything would be fine, and how not to leave her post, and that he would take care of her mother. Still, it hurt. Although, the Commander was right, there was nothing she could do. At least her mother was safe somewhere and getting help. Hugging tightly to the man in her arms, she rested her head against his chest, and just breathed. That faint odor of musk was there, calming her, so that she buried her head deeper. The tears had dried in her eyes, and her heart was lifted from the talk.

_Not all of your problems are solved though, right?_

Bree tightened her eyes, keeping them closed, gripping the back of the Commander's shirt. Take the initiative, she thought. Just take the plunge. Bree took a deep breath, similar to a swimmer before diving into the deep end. "Commander," she whispered, not looking at him. His answer was a slight hum, the hand she hadn't noticed was there brushing her hair back. Shivers crawled up her spine, delicious shivers. "About what happened the other night…"

Bree pushed herself out of his embrace, still keeping her head down. "Well, I just want you to know that I, well, I don't do that very often. In fact, almost not at all, well, I guess what I want to say is that….I didn't do it to advance."

"You think, that I think you did it to advance your position on the ship?"

Bree nodded slowly, finally looking up. The Commander's face was for once serious. Then he smiled. "You did one hell of a job then, chica."

If any other person had said that she would have been insulted, and angry, but the laughter was plain on his face. Bree felt that little ping in her head go off one more time, and she thought, uh-oh. Giving a small smile in exchange, Bree rested her head again, and stayed still, listening to his heart, smelling his scent. The kinks in her shoulder, the pain in her gut went away inch by inch. She felt so relaxed, so at ease in the Commander's arms. Was this love?

Is this what people fought for?

"Bree," the Commander said, bringing her from her thoughts, as she looked up at him. He brought up a hand and gently rubbed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Bree felt a blush spread where is fingers touched a heat that burned to her gut and below. She recognized the signs of arousal, as she had been in that state for days now. So when he leaned down to kiss her, she leaned up to meet him. She could feel the beat of her heart echo in her ears, as his tongue flicked against her lips asking for permission. It took only a second to decide before she let him in, meeting his advancement half-way with one of her own. Their tongues tangled, agile, and familiar with each other, and when James wrapped his strong arms around her, she extended hers around his neck. They were in contact every inch, pressed against each other in a lip lock of both pure lust and something not quite recognizable. Bree hoped it was love. Bree wished it was love.

The soft groan that escaped through her throat was one of submission not denial when his hands tugged at the zipper on her sweatshirt, and the sound of metal clinking undone sent shivers down her spine all the way to her toes. She moaned when he forcefully shoved the article off her shoulders, letting it pool at her elbows before she released his neck to tear the sweatshirt off. She gasped when his hand shoved its way under her white tank top, and tore the offending material up to under her arms. Bree felt him switch his angle in the kiss and directed herself to match him, but he was so good, and she had so little experience. When she felt her face turn blue, she pulled back long enough to breathe in again. The Commander took the opportunity to lift the shirt up over her head. She lifted her arms to aid him. Her white lace bra was in the way, tight against her breasts that were practically begging for his touch. His fingers fumbled with the hook, and she laughed slightly, reaching back to help him, all the while letting his lips kiss her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Little nips that shot spikes to her center every time.

"Commander," she moaned when his hands found her now revealed breasts, grasping them tightly, rubbing the calloused palms over the tightened buds. She gasped when he gripped harder. "James," he whispered, licking the shell of her ear, making her squeal. "My name is James, chica."

Bree moaned, leaning forward into him, letting him run the show, and loving it. "James," she whispered, gripping his shirt tightly. The groan that came out of his mouth was delicious, as was the steady whispering of Spanish that made her heart double time. "Say something else," she gasped, letting her hands grip the hem of his shirt. She panted when he trailed his lips to the tight bud on her chest, licking and nibbling it delightfully. "Say something again in Spanish, please."

The words after she spoke were unintelligible as his teeth bit down hard. The hands that grabbed his shirt shot up under to flesh; hot flesh that was covered in thin sweat. He sighed, the sound pleased and aroused. "Does it make you hot, chica?"

"Yes," she gasped when his devil's fingers tickled down to the hem of her pants. They ghosted around the edge, teasing the hot skin, making her groan in disappointment when they didn't move further down. Instead, his head lifted from her breasts, leaning down to her ear and whispered darkly. Bree's eyes opened wide, gasping and a hard hot feeling gushed from her center, making her strain, back like a tightened bow string. He bit down on her ear, wrapping her in his arms, letting his voice tickle her senses.

When Bree felt the last vestiges of her orgasm end, though the previous heat still remained, she let her head lay on his shoulder, and attempted to catch her breath. James smiled, though it was strained. "I've never had a woman cum from hearing me speak Spanish before. It's interesting."

Bree resisted the urge to bury her face in embarrassment, and almost did when he laughed. "And hot," he finished, pushing her back from him. Bree tried to go closer again, missing the heat, when he tugged the shirt over his head. Her eyes immediately drifted to his chest again. The sight made saliva, what wasn't already there, pool in her mouth, along with other sticky substances in her core. James smiled. "Every time, one would think you only like me for my body, chica."

Bree gulped, before speaking, though the voice was weak and a little raspy. "Not only your body, sir."

He laughed, reaching down to his pants. Her eyes trailed with his fingers, widening when he unzipped the metal at the end. "That's-," he said at length, letting his other hand grab hers to bring it over the opened fly. "-alright with me, chica. As it seems that I'm very fond of yours too."

Bree shook her head in denial, but was too fixed on the pulsing heat just underneath her palm. It was covered in the cloth of his boxers, but the fire and wetness broke through. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her hand. And when she didn't move, she felt him chuckle nervously. "It's okay, you can touch it."

Bree's mind reeled at that statement, but still she couldn't move. Opening her mouth like a fish, she gasped for air, before seeking his eyes for help. His shone with understanding, taking her hand in his again. He led it beneath the cotton. "Like this, mi chica."

The hard hot rod pulsed in her hands, slick with sweat and pre-cum. She gasped when he moaned at the contact.

It was the feel of it, hard steel covered in soft skin. When she let her fingers brush up and down his head dropped on her shoulder, moaning, and gritting his teeth. Fascinated, Bree let her other hand drop down as well and gripped the flesh. It was incredible, seeing the tough Commander turn into a…well she didn't really know. Curiosity got the better of her as she stroked softly, gripping tightly at the base on every stroke. When she thought the man might pass out, his hands flashed out and yanked her against him again.

His mouth devoured hers, so that she could barely breath barely think. Her body yielded, giving in to him completely. When he yanked her up on to his lap, she didn't complain. The feel of him, so close was intoxicating and comforting. She tightened her hold by wrapping her arms around his neck. When he parted from her, he moved to stand, grasping her rear and lifting her like she weighed almost nothing. Bree marveled at his strength, turned on beyond belief.

He carried her over to the bed, gently placing her down and crawling up to meet her.

When he loomed, a dark shadow blocking out all light, she felt a small nag in the back of her head. That foolish little wuss trying to remind her of something important didn't seem all that important though as he was kissing her neck again, trailing his lips down licking every heated inch of her skin. She gently clawed at his back, hoping for some foot hold from the sensations reeling through her. There was none.

Her eyes widened when his clever trigger fingers slipped softly underneath her pants. She almost crooned when they met her center, delving into the heat. Her groan matched his when those fingers inched inside of her, spreading the flesh and going deep inside. Bree let her head fall against the pillow in surrender, unable to do anything other than rock her hips.

James gritted his teeth as a wave of ecstasy bounced within his system. It had been so damn long since he'd been with a woman he had almost forgot how wonderful the feel of one was. Bree however, took the tier. The little sounds she made-and the big ones-were driving him nuts. He was as hard as a rock, and her earlier exploration hadn't help in the least. If anything he had found himself harder than ever after that.

Now here she was, this slight little woman, purring and calling like a cat in the ultimate heat, and she was all his. Unsure whether, he could control himself, James focused on the tightness that surrounded his fingers. He was pleased to find that as soon as he had begun to stroke her, her hips had greedily started pumping. With a hiss of breath, James added another finger and looked up to stare at Bree. God, he thought, wanted to murder him. She was beautiful, face in pure pleasure, auburn haired curled with sweat, sticking to her temples. Her skin was flushed, pink and wonderful. There was one thing missing.

"Bree," he whispered, waiting till she nodded. "Open your eyes."

He watched as she slowly let her gorgeous green eyes slit open. They were dark with pleasure, and James sighed at the depths of them. A romantic he was not, but just looking at those eyes made him think of poetic words and songs. Siren eyes, he thought. She had siren's eyes. "You are so beautiful," he said. James had the pleasure of seeing surprise cross Bree's face. He chuckled, stroking again. The surprise flitted to shock then pleasure, as those eyes slowly closed again.

When Bree couldn't take much more she lifted her hands to his. "James," she begged. "Please, I need you." Bree opened her eyes to see him nod, and smirk at her. "Alright, chica. I understand."

The loss of his fingers was great, and she strained her hips to follow the retreating digits. That was until she saw him stand up. His eyes, the dark brown of them, gazed through her. She swallowed, just a little afraid of the 'size' of him. It had been a long time since she had been taken, and the last one had not been quite as large. His smirk grew. "Don't worry, it will work."

Bree felt herself blush harder in embarrassment. Turning her face away, she huffed-which was hard to do when you were already panting. "You don't have to tell me that. I already know."

His laugh made her shiver again, and she turned to look at him as he tugged his pants and boxers all the way off. "Take off your pants," he said, tossing the discarded clothes with the other articles. Gulping in a mixture of lust and nervousness, Bree reached down with shaking fingers and tugged her pants down and off. This left only her soiled panties. She was happy to remember a less embarrassing color tonight. James licked his lips, catching her eye, and making her lick in response. Slowly, torturing both of them, she slipped the last cloth off. His eyes tracked it down, staying when they passed her junction and off.

They were both completely naked now. James gulped, taking in the sight before him. He thought he might be in love. Perfect body, with a slightly toned tummy-now that he really got a good look at her he noticed these things-and trim slim legs. She was pale, and he could make out the thin outlines of veins in her skin. He didn't have a preference to skin color on his women, but on Bree, the pale skin was beautiful. When he reached over and trailed his palms up her leg, listening to her catch of breath at the feel, he was aroused by the feel and look of them. He slid himself up to her, making them level. His manhood brushed the heated core of her center and he stopped just inches away from her.

He held her hips when they strained to get closer. James felt his own body tighten at the control he was giving himself. When she whimpered and begged with his name, he smiled and led his manhood to her.

Bree felt her body tighten and coil as the thickness of him entered her. She felt every tingle, every stretch, and craved more. It was painful, but only so that she had to breathe a little harder and grab him a little bit more. James, for all his strength, went slowly and Bree could see how it cost him by the look on his face. When he was fitted inside, when he could go no further, she bucked her hips once.

"No," he said, gritting his teeth and hissing violently. "Wait, just a moment."

Bree wanted to tell him it was fine, she wanted to tell him she felt wonderful, she felt beautiful. But she could see he was holding himself back from hurting her. Lifting her head she wrapped her arms around him and leaned up to lick his tattoos. Nipping his neck, she kissed him when he groaned. "I'm fine," she whispered, licking near his pulse point. "Please, move."

On an oath, James thrust, pistoning his hips. Bree gasped, moaning as he picked a fast rhythm. It was fast, with long strokes that made her ache. Catching the rhythm, Bree thrust her hips in time with him. In and out, in and out, they went, groaning, moaning, gasping, sighing, until Bree felt herself tighten. Like a spring ready to launch.

She moaned louder, thrust against him harder, faster. "James," she moaned, panting, not able to breath the heat was so intense. It was too much. The feel of him, thick and full, making her ache for more, yet there was too much. "I-I can't," she said, trying to grab hold of something anything.

"Yes," he answered, "you can."

Bree heard her own scream, felt herself release, and felt him, deep inside her as he followed her into the light.

_A.N: Ah, there you go. Probably one of my better sex scenes that I've written in a long time. Let me tell you when I was writing it I was worried as fuck that my parents would walk in while I was writing. Anyway, RXR like always, and tell me what you think. Next chapter will be up soon, I promise!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N: So this is a much shorter chapter, but I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself at this moment. The real action stuff starts next. It should be fun as it's the thing I'm the best at writing. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!_

Chapter 5: What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

Bree woke to the sound of silence. For a second, she panicked. The quarters were many things, but never silent. Or, she thought rubbing her face against a sheet, this comforting. That was when it all came back to her. A rush of visions, wonderful memories, erupted into her brain, and Bree could have sworn fear and happiness would never be together again. Gently, almost afraid to find out, Bree slid her hand next to her, keeping her eyes shut. Nothing.

Well, not entirely nothing. Bree cracked her eyes open to see the place beside her mussed and from the feel of her hand, still warm. With a silent plea for some strength, Bree sat up, taking the sheet up with her for decency. The room was empty. No one was around, not a soul, well if you didn't count the fish in the fancy tank.

Taking the sheet, Bree dragged herself off the bed. She trailed over to the desk, to see a flashing light on the monitor. Stretching her deliciously sore muscles, Bree sat at the chair and flicked the screen on. There was message. Puzzled, Bree ran a hand through her sex mussed hair. Trying to think, not sure she wanted to read what it said, she sat back in the chair and thought about last night.

She had had sex with her Commanding Officer. Not once, not twice, but three times. Two times on the bed, and the third in the shower-at which time Bree discovered the Commander was just as talented vertical as he was horizontal. It was no wonder she was so sore. Deciding being a coward was a foolish way to go about the situation, she clicked the message open.

_Buenos días Niña_

_I hope you don't get too freaked about me not being there, but duty calls; mission on a colony planet. Feel free to stay as long as you like, I don't mind. And if you happen to still be there when I get back, well, we can discuss that later. If not, be good, do work, and try not to let that Tight Ass get away with his crap. See you later._

_James_

Bree could count on one hand the amount of times she had been charmed by a man, and most of those times were her own brothers. She added another count.

A little part of her told her to go back into the bed, order up some tunes and wait for his return. The hard working woman who had struggled to get to where she was told her to stop being so lazy and get some work done. Deciding she had ignored her practical side enough for the moment, Bree sighed before getting up to shower and get dressed.

Still, the bed had looked damn comforting.

! &*(! #$%^&*() #$%^&*(! #$%^&*(

"Officer Brianna Dirce, you are once again late arriving."

Bree held back the snide remark that on the ship work was possible at any time, and paid for it. "Sorry, sir, I got sick last night so I was just recovering."

"I hope it's nothing I can catch?"

Bree figured she could tell him he would never get this type of sickness, but why make the man more angry? Listening with half an ear to Fredricks ramblings about to wrong procedures, Bree picked up a heavy pisol and began a routine clean up. With efficient fingers, she took the weapon apart, taking the time to clean every single inch.

"Gunnery Chief," a deep voice said near the elevator. Bree felt the chamber slip just slightly from her fingers as she lifted her head. There he was, standing in full uniform. He was damn intimidating, even after seeing the man naked. Fredricks came at full alert. "Sir?"

James wandered over, letting his eyes pass over Bree's, and hold for only a second. It was the second that mattered only to Bree. Luckily, Fredricks hadn't caught it. James came up and stood tall.

"I have a mission, and I need a particularly good weapons specialist for the job."

Fredricks eyes widened. "A mission? But sir, I don't go on field. My specialties lie in the lab not on the battlegrounds."

James eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, I need a field man who can fully commission and take over a rather large multi-powered AA gun tower. I need someone with enough tech and weapons skill to get it for the Alliance."

Bree watched as the two argued about this and that. It wasn't until her foolish brain took hold that Bree watched Fredricks march away angrily to the suit up station. James watched him until he was out of sight, then turned to look at her. He smiled.

Bree felt her heart trip and shyly smiled back. "Commander."

"Officer."

Bree blushed a little at his stare, and looked down to pick up with her work.

"How are you?"

Bree glanced at him as he dragged a chair to sit across from her. Bree nodded, slipping the chamber back, and sliding in a fresh clip. She aimed the gun without a target, checking to see the scope worked, before placing it back down and finally looking at him again.

"I feel alright, sir. Totally fine."

"I should hope so."

Bree blushed again, but was pleased when she battled it back quickly. "Yes," she coughed. "So, Commander, what was this about a mission for Chief Fredricks?"

The scowl came back on his face, and Bree idly thought how cute it made him look. "Damn, moron. Who ever heard of a Gunnery Chief that didn't go into the field?"

"It happens sometimes."

"Yes, well I need a man who can go with me to get a dumb gun back online."

"Why can you not do it yourself, sir?"

"You don't want to see me with machines, Officer. It's not pretty."

Bree laughed, gently, and let her head rest on her palm. "Not a tech kind of guy, sir?"

"Hell no, I can't even get the things to turn on properly. One time, Shepard asked me to bypass a locked door and I almost jammed the stupid thing forever. I can recall the exact face both she and Liara had on; both looks of irritation and amusement."

Bree couldn't help but lean in to listen better. "Well, me and machines get along well with each other, most of the time. Though if they are weapon oriented it works much better. I remember one time I tried to take on a hacking into my school records when I was ten and the machine blew up in my face. Ended up in detention for two months and grounded for five."

"No," James said, leaning back against the chair. "You were a trouble-maker. I don't believe it."

Bree chuckled, getting comfortable in her own way. "After that, I tried not to get into any trouble ever again. My mother chewed out my ear so bad I could hear a ringing weeks afterwards."

James looked at her with amusement, and a hint of admiration. She looked happy, sitting there, with instruments of death at her fingers. When his eyes drifted from her body, he heard her breath catch just slightly. She fiddled with her dog tags, avoiding his eyes. He liked that he made her nervous, but what really caught his thoughts was something else.

"Could you take care of an AA control panel?"

Bree had been distracted again by his gaze, the heated brown eyes that had traveled over her body with a purpose. She idly answered his question without thinking about it. "Well, yes, I can. It's not really that hard. It's been years since my slip up, but I'm a fairly decent tech, although my specialty is heavy equipment."

Bree saw James' face split into a grin. "Alright, that's perfect. Tight Ass doesn't want to go, so I'll take you."

Bree felt her small smile slip. "What?"

He stood up, slapping his thighs in triumph. "That settles it, today, you, me, and Lt. Reynolds are going to take care of that damn AA gun. You'd better get armor prepared. I'm sure they have something that will fit you in the lockers. Report to me at nine hundred hours for mission briefing."

Bree leapt up as the man she had fallen for, marched off with a smile on his face and a happy step. What, she thought, sitting back down, had just happened?

Bree lifted a hand to rub her temple. "Certainly nothing good," she whispered.

_A.N: Phew, okay, that's all for right now. Please don't burn for the short chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. Until next time, Read and Review to your hearts content!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A.N: Alright, in repentance for that short chapter last update, this time I have a really long chapter. HA HA LOGIC! Anyway, thanks for keeping up with this for this long. Appreciate the praise from the peanut gallery! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own this game, Mass Effect, it is owned by Bioware. I own Bree._

Chapter 6: Mission

Bree tried not to shift uncomfortably. The armor she wore wasn't custom-made for her and so far it had done nothing but make her scratch constantly. But that could also be those horrid little butterflies bouncing around in her stomach.

Why that man thought she was fit for field work was beyond her comprehension. Still, as she looked over in the transport, she had to admit seeing 'that man' in full armor was a rather enjoyable sight. Plus, she reconciled as she checked her pistol for full ammo, she had had weapons training, had gone to a shooting range, and had learned how to properly fight from her older brothers over the years. How hard could a simple 'fix-it' mission be, really?

Studying the Commander as he gave orders to the shuttle pilot Bree didn't notice the look Lt. Cameron Reynolds was giving her. When she felt the stare she turned.

The light haired man, with blue eyes was tall and fairly good-looking, but to Bree he resembled a boy more than a man. Not that it meant he was bad at fighting of course, he just looked rather young. She'd only talked to him twice since boarding the Terminus, and both times he had been so busy, he must not have even recognized her. She gave a shy smile and nodded in greeting. He just stared.

Trying to ignore him, Bree looked up as James walked over. The bumpy shuttle was flying through turbulence so he stumbled a little. Bree tried not to laugh when he gave a glare at the pilot, before once again turning to look.

"Alright, so as far as we know reports are showing there is no immediate activity in the vicinity of the AA controls. Lucky for us, since there have been previous reports of activity in the area."

Reynolds scoffed. "You'd think with the ending of a war not months before things would be peaceful for a while."

"Not necessarily," Bree stated unconsciously. "That's the perfect time for anarchy and fighting. The galaxy is in repair, and many people are without a proper feeling a security. For some, war and fighting is the only way to escape truth."

When both just looked at her, Bree held in check the urge to hide her face. Reynolds just looked shocked, while James looked rather pleased.

"Anyway," he said, smiling at her. "Whatever has been happening there is unknown so it's not that likely there are mercenaries. So we won't have any gunfire going on over our heads. That will give us a one up on the mission status."

She nodded. It shouldn't be that hard.

"Sir, we are approaching the drop-zone now."

"Alright, team. Get ready for drop."

They nodded, both standing. Gripping the straps the door swung open to reveal a forest of green plant-life. Not far from it was a landing pad, covered in overgrown brush. She stood back as the Commander gave a quick hand signal and jumped down to land. Reynolds followed, moving forward to give her room. Bracing her body, she too leapt off the edge. The small shock in her knees stung for only a second, before the rest of her body followed to offset it.

The shuttle closed and floated up and off. The com in her ear buzzed. "Commander, I'll keep to the sky until you're ready. The landing pad isn't safe for a full landing just yet."

"Roger that, Dunston, keep com open for extraction."

They moved, pushing through the plants. Bree listened to the sounds of wildlife all around them, the growls and snarls, the coos and caws. They sounded like a rainforest on Earth, but she didn't delude herself. This wasn't Earth.

Noticing them move further up, she spotted a door leading into a hidden facility. 'Hidden' being the operative word as it was covered in vines and blooming flowers, but the steel underneath could be visible in the right light.

On top of the facility were three large gleaming guns.

The Commander pointed up to them. "That's what we need to get back on line."

"Figures," she mumbled, going up to the door. The entrance had been ripped open, spread from the center like something had barreled inside. Recently.

There was a small silence. James cursed. "Well, reports never seem to be accurate these days anyway." He pulled out his gun, checking the safety and led the way through the door. Bree's heart raced as she too pulled out her gun and checked it.

The room looked very much like every other compound Bree had seen in her time, lots of metal crates. Still when they moved on through the rooms, she got the creepy vibe that there was in fact something here.

"Hold up," the Commander said, catching her attention. He had reached a panel on the opposite side of the room. "I think this is the quickest way in." He pulled out his omni-tool, looked. "Yeah, this is it. The main control room should be in this direction." He signaled Reynolds, who walked over to fix the busted door control.

A scratching sound came from behind Bree. She whirled around, gun cocked. She held her breath as she looked into the dense brush. The greens didn't move, didn't shift and still she held her ground. Her eyes darted left, then right, searching through the vines. Was there nothing there?

Giving a brief glance over her shoulder, she saw her teammates busy lowly talking about the plan. Seeing no reason why she shouldn't move closer, Bree aimed her gun at the hidden shadows, moving over soft feet. It was most likely a mouse-like creature, crawling through the vents in search of food. If nothing else, she would no doubt feel like an idiot for freaking over it.

When she reached the vines, she cautiously lifted a hand to brush some aside. A flow of air hit her face, blowing her tied-up hair back, making her squint. It reeked, smelling of blood. She flicked on her light, and sucked in a breath. The scream caught in her throat and she firmly ordered it to stay there. A carcus of a dead human rotted on the other side of the vine. The blood was everywhere, caking the steel floor red. The bones and meat were spread haphazardly as if they had been a meal for some creature. Flies were congregating on the old flesh, spawning new kin.

Holding her nose, she took a step backwards in an attempt to escape the scene of decay. Her lunch threatened to rise up to meet her again, but she stifled it. Letting the vines once again cover the remains, she stepped back far enough to be able to breathe fresh air again. Her eyes were wide, her mouth was dry, and her stomach was successfully churned.

All that time she thought, "This was what Earth had been like, bodies everywhere, corpses gathering over time. This was what my brothers had gone through."

A wave of pity for those who survived such horrors washed through her and she turned to glance at James, who was unaware of her little excursion. Blinking back tears, Bree lifted herself up again. Now was not the time to think about the past, not when she had a mission to do."

Walking over she was silently relieved when Reynolds laugh of triumph came. The door slid open, and the next path was open. Bree took one more glance at the vines, and shuddered before she could control herself.

"So," she said as they continued on. "What happened to this place?" It wasn't really a stretch to question why there was a dead body in this place, but she had to ask. The Commander, peeked cautiously over a corner, and exhaled when there was no one in the broken down room. "It was one of the first human colonies to be attacked by Reapers. It took a hard beating, and we're lucky there isn't anything here aside from overgrown plant life and the occasional varren."

"But how could it be so dense in here when the attack wasn't anymore than a half a year ago?"

Reynolds shoved aside a box, grinning when he found some spare clips. "The foliage on this planet is extremely fast growing. With no one here to push it back with the proper chemicals, the trees took over the facility; changing the whole facility into a jungle."

Bree could see that. There had been indications in the front of smoke screens, and air vents. Those no doubt fumed out chemicals to keep the plants at bay. He was right, without someone to watch it nature had taken its course.

"Hey, Commander, check this out!"

Bree watched as James trudged over next to Reynolds. "I found some files. Check this log out." He clicked up a vid, the face of young MT filled the screen.

_Log Time 22:30 Monday April 7_

_So the doctor told me that the tests I did on the last plant samples was incorrect. Yeah, right, what I did was better than anything else in the facility. I created a sample of something that could keep these creatures away from the damn facility, permanently. Lucky for me though, I was able to get it in the ventilation system. Wasn't too hard as the guards here are shmucks who can't tie their own shoelaces. _

It blinked out, and another log blipped on again.

_Log Time 8:57 Thursday April 17_

_Damn experiment didn't work. The stupid chemical I created doesn't just keep the monsters away, it kills them. It's like a poison, completely ordorless completely colorless. A silent killing buzz. I screwed up royally this time. I'll have to purge it from the vents, and hope the damn system doesn't go on the fritz and turn on the code switch. Maybe I can do it tonight-no- tomorrow, I can't afford for the head of the department to catch me, I'll be executed. Damn, I really am an idiot._

Off, then on with another dated the last entry; it was the day before the attack on the station.

_Log Time 20:05 Friday April 18_

_I heard this group of interns got stupid. Those idiots thought they would collect test samples after the sun set, without gear. No doubt they thought to get in the head doctor's favor by bringing in some good samples of the plant life. The guards found their bodies this morning, on the landing deck, torn to bloody pieces. Eaten, by that thing that lives just outside the boundaries. I'm telling you, if my stuff would have worked, we could have taken care of that thing for good. No more giant monster roaming just outside the damn window. I still haven't gotten into the main control room. But I think I know how to get there. I know a tunnel, a ream of passages that start at the front hall and lead all the way into the back ventilation hatch. It's where I first placed my chemicals. Later tonight, when everybody's off, I'll sneak in there and take it out again. No harm no foul. Piece of cake._

Bree felt sick to her stomach once more. So, she thought as James and Reynolds talked about the information found. That was this man. He wasn't there to hide, but to try to fix a mistake he made. By the time her eyes cleared, Bree saw the others heading off, she ran to catch up.

When they reached the far end of the compound, they came to a large door. It was broken, smashed open, the inner corners bent as if someone had attempted to tear it off, much like the entrance. Bree could only guess who could have done that. James lifted a hand for silence, and signaled them to stay put. Alone, he walked up to the door peeking through the open section. He gave a quick 'go-ahead' signal, and they slowly walked over the broken debris and boxes.

It was the main control room. Torn in various places the area was a pinnacle of the war that had gone on. There was only one thing missing; the bodies. Bree took a look around, following closely behind the Commander. Where were the bodies? Did the Reapers take them for indoctrination? That seemed highly likely.

The room was cold, despite the humidity outside.

"A.C.'s busted no doubt, likely has been for months now." Reynolds shoved aside a fallen cart, and gave a gruff grunt when he revealed a series of panels. "Here we go, this has got to be the one."

"Alright," the Commander said, though his face didn't look relieved. "Dirce, make it quick, I have a bad feeling about this place right now."

Finding no reason to argue, Bree holstered her gun and ran over to the console. Reynolds stepped back with a flourished hand gesture, before stepping behind her to guard her flank. "Alright," Bree said, flipping the power on. "At most it will take me five minutes, depending on the system."

"Five," the Commander said, surprise littering his tone. "Well, then, don't wait on our account."

She was going to take that as a compliment for now. Ticking the keys a few times, Bree was pleased when the machine responded fluidly. Rolling up her mental sleeves, Bree got to work.

James had a bad feeling. One that was slowly crawling up his spine, telling him they weren't alone. Glancing left then right, he signaled Reynolds to take a further point nearer to the shattered windows. They were open, but covered completely by green vines and leaves. Nothing could possibly come through it, at least he hoped so. Eyes sharp and serious, James back stepped to cover Bree. He took a quick glance and those sharp brown eyes widened at the speed her fingers were moving.

"I thought you said you were 'alright' with machines, chica," he whispered, low enough for Reynolds to not hear. Bree chuckled in kind. "I suppose to some this would be considered good with machines, but I'm nothing compared to how my brother's were. All except Trace, who couldn't even work a toaster, it was so pathetic." The soft smile on her face made him want to hold her in his arms, but he resisted. Reynolds might have been a good man and a decent crewmate, but even he didn't need to know about them.

"Yeah, that's funny. Still, how much longer? I think something's out there, and I think it's a little hungry."

Bree's brows furrowed, but she didn't look up. The AA turrets main controls had been shot, the whole system on overload. It would take another minute to place the necessary repairs into the system. It looked good though, at least until she hit a wall.

"Shoot," she cursed, slamming a fist down on the side panel. A groan came from the far direction. "Don't say that Dirce!"

"Don't yell," she mumbled, but louder she said, "Systems locked, the guns are jammed. I need to get to the power grid, shut it down then start it up again. This is going to effectively turnoff the power to all major functions in this room."

"Well, that doesn't sound too hard, does it?"

Bree exchanged a silent glance with James. "Shit," he said, knowing what she was thinking. "So basically you're saying that the only thing keeping whatever the hell it is out of here is the chemicals right?"

"If you've noticed," she explained for Lt. Reynolds' sake, "The only thing keeping the wildlife and plant life from spreading further into this room is the excess chemicals still being filtered into the air. The facility is still operating, the chemicals keeping whatever that is out there from getting in. Once we turn off the system to reboot, which could take a few minutes at least…"

"It's open season."

Bree nodded, not at all liking her idea one bit. The Commander rubbed a hand over his face, seemingly thinking about the situation. He was silent for awhile, until he sighed in defeat. "Okay, we've got to get this thing on, as it is the major point in coming here. Is there any possible way to, I don't know, get the chemicals back online to keep that thing back longer?"

Looking at the generators on the second level of the facility, Bree tried to think of just that. She gave a glance at the cracked door, then the ventilation pipes on the ceiling. "Well," she said at length, glancing at Reynolds as he trotted over. "I could possibly turn on the ventilation as soon as the power comes back on. The man who placed those toxins, he would have placed them in the emergency filters, so that when they went off he would get credit for the achievement of successfully combating the beast with his concoction. Of course, with the toxins being what he said they were, we might be in a bad situation. Luckily we have masks, so that should protect us from the air, and once that gets into the facility, anything within the walls would be poisoned. Then, I can get the AA turrets back up and we'll be home free."

"What about the ventilation?"

"I could rig it to vent for a certain period of time, then filter the fresh air back into the area. Clean out the toxins, keeping the air fresh. Of course, the original ventilation chemical would be needed to re-filter the air once more."

"Right," James said. "Why don't we get on that first?" But when Bree began to follow them, he stopped and pointed to the console. "No, Officer, you stay and try to figure out the proper way to get this whole situation dealt with quickly."

Bree nodded, watching as the two wandered off. Alone, she stared around, suddenly colder than she was before in the frozen room. She could almost feel someone else watching her. Suppressing a shiver, she walked over to the panel again and tried to get as many safe guards open as she could. This certainly wasn't what she wanted to happen when she had been taken on this mission.

She supposed she should consider herself lucky there hadn't been any mercenaries with guns though. No, she thought bitterly to herself, frowning, just a gigantic monster that could potentially eat us all. Still, if these scientists had survived with a handful of civilians, it meant that this planet was at least somewhat liveable. That in itself was a good sign. Bree figured the only reason the Alliance wanted this facility back was because of the research results that could be capable on this planet.

Bree growled low in her throat when the computer cheerfully-or what could be called cheerfully with a broken and static filled voice box-told her that the action was locked and suggested to go to maintenance for further instructions. "I am maintenance you blasted machine."

Pulling up her omni-tool, she attempted to hack into the layers left. Success, as the light blinked from orange to green. Her laugh of triumph was lost though when the sound of a large bang echoed above her.

Ducking her head, she ran and hid behind the previously moved cargo boxes. Gasping for breath, Bree looked up at the ceiling. The shuttling and shuffling noise was echoing within the room. It sounded large and unfriendly.

Lifting her hand to her ear she whispered into the com. "Commander, I think you might want to hurry here. I think there's something inside the room with me."

A garbled 'on our way' came through her left ear, but Bree was too preoccupied with watching the ceiling. The scuffle of sounds was coming faster, and Bree lifted her pistol to the sound, following it. Then, it stopped.

Eyes trained, breath heaving in fear, Bree watched intently at the last spot. She couldn't hear anything else, couldn't see if it was coming closer or further away. But her eyes were locked, waiting. She sucked in a breath and as she let it out.

"Bree," the Commander's voice said over the com, "We placed the component, shut down the facility. We're on our way, just hold on."

Nodding in a daze, Bree crawled over and quickly set the system on shutdown. _Warning, Warning, the feature you have chosen is an unrecommended feature. Do you still wish to continue?_

Yes, she thought desperately; anything to get that poison in the air. She pushed the switch. Lights blacked out and the air stilled, as the room fell into pitch darkness. Pulling out her helmet she placed it over her head. The oxygen filter immediately cleared the air. Even if the poison wasn't in the atmosphere yet, she wasn't going to take any chances. Cautiously, Bree turned on her light, pointing left and right, before spinning around to check the other corners. Nothing was there, but she wasn't fooled, they were around her. The question was, how many?

She spotted the air control on the second floor. Slowly, and as quietly as possible, she walked over to the ladder, climbing to the top. So far, so good, she thought, but the nagging fear did not dispel. She reached the air control, setting the timer to turn on when the system rebooted. That set that.

Then the world exploded. Bree couldn't have said if she remembered hearing anything in particular, but at the time, it hadn't been a priority to hear the scuffling behind her. The only thing that had mattered was the feel of the large tail smashing into her stomach, launching her over the bars onto the first floor below.

She crashed against the floor, shoving equipment and old supplies as she slid. The groan of pain didn't come as she instinctively pointed her pistol in the direction of the second floor. Her scream of terror was trapped in her throat. The creature was large, and had the look of a varren crossed with some sort of swamp monster. Its jaws were wide and large, blood and saliva dripping as the thing hissed at her light. It was around seven feet long from nose to tail, of which was large and scaled like the rest of it.

When it bunched for a leap, Bree didn't think, but shot. The shot grazed its left eye, causing to howl in pain loudly, before leaping left out of her aim.

It was then Bree realized that it wasn't alone. Behind her another hissing sound echoed and she whirled shooting when she spotted another just like it. Her first thought was "get out!" and the next was, "run!" but she knew, just knew that just around the corner was someone she could trust to get there in time before she was eaten. This stuck even when the sounds of growling were obvious throughout the room. Panic took a back seat to adrenaline as Bree unloaded on the first varren hybrid she saw, before watching it howl and drop dead. Only five or so more to go, she thought quickly before reloading a clip and moving to the next.

They were too fast though, moving before she could properly shoot them. They were nothing like the targets in practice training, those didn't move, those didn't growl and hiss as they stalked closer to eat you. Heart racing, she moved further away as they circled, even when she killed another one, watching it thump to the floor.

Her confidence shook when the feeling of a wall pushed against her back. With fearful tears crawling to the edge of her vision, Bree could almost feel their hot disgusting breath on her face. That's when the static filled her ear, making her cry in relief. A barrage of bullets came from the left direction, taking down the creatures one by one, as they were too shocked to notice the other humans. James and Reynolds came through the door shooting, faces blocked by the helmets on their heads, both firing rapidly, and with precision aim that she had been missing. Bree took another shot, taking down another one in the eye. When the howls stopped, when the room simply smelled of blood and heated clips, Bree felt her legs give way as she slid down to the floor. Her eyes were clouded as she hyperventilated.

"Reynolds, check the perimeter." A terse answer followed, and Bree felt hands touch her helmet. "You alright, soldier?" Bree nodded once, but then shook her head as she rushed to the corner, ripped off her helmet and became violently ill. The hand on her back was a comfort. When she was down to dry heaves, Bree sucked in a much needed breath and wiping her mouth put the helmet back on. Head still hidden, she laughed humorlessly. "Lucky the poison wasn't in the air huh?"

"Would have been a problem alright?" Surprisingly the hilarity of the statement calmed her, almost as much as the light accent it came with. Looking over her shoulder, she could just make out the warm eyes of her commander. Taking one more breath she stood slowly. "I'm fine now. Thank you, sir." James nodded, idly patting her helmet once more, before walking back over to the console. When Bree walked over she became painfully aware of a kink in her shoulder. Steeling her pain, she lifted her arm and sucked in a breath when in popped back into place. No wonder her aim was off. At the quizzical glance Reynolds sent her she just sent him thumbs up, before taking ten more deep breaths.

It was then the sound of glass cracking caught her attention. Whirling to the far enclosed window, the three drew their guns, trained. When the glass cracked the sound of cursing echoed in her ear, as a herd of varren hybrids broke into the room, followed by a much larger varren hybrid. Head of the herd no doubt, she thought, fear crawling into her belly again. The group fired, shooting faster, but to Bree's horror each one killed, another took its place.

"Come on!" Reynolds shouted. "Turn on stupid system!"

Bree held the same sentiment as she saw one charge the Commander only to have him shove it back and use a bash force to cave in its skull. He slid out the clip of his assault rifle, and pulled back another bash blow to the next one. That was when the largest varren walked over, and opened its mouth to howl loudly. Bree fought the urge to cover her ears. Before she saw an explosive shot blast the creature back. James fired again, but his body language showed he wasn't going to fire another anytime soon. So, Bree thought, that was that.

When the lights blinked on, her call of happiness was genuine, even as she heard Reynolds', "Finally!" The power kicked on in one burst, sending the varren scuffling against the sudden shift in lights. That was before the air control turned on. The room filled with some moist substance, but Bree could neither see nor hear it. Still they kept firing, continuing on even as the varren dropped dead before them. As the room once again grew quiet, she noticed the larger varren peal loudly, choking before it fell loudly on the floor, shaking the ground. The silence was deafening, broken only by her heavy breathing and the slight hiss of the air control. After a minute of silence, the Commander spoke. "Officer Dirce, I think you can turn on the circulatory system now."

Nodding, and saying, "Yes, sir." She rushed over and fiddled with the switches some more. The ping and exhale of fresh air brought a small smile of relief to her face, before she lifted the helmet off cautiously. Taking a deep breath, almost missing her Commander's swear in frustration at her recklessness, she blinked when she was met with only fresh oxygen. In response, she turned back to the console and got to work on their original mission.

James ripped off the helmet and walked over to stare over her shoulder. He blinked again, confused, but pleased when the machine chimed that the guns were fully operational. "Good, too bad it wasn't like that ten minutes before."

It took another minute before the guns were fully operational again. The sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by James who smiled. "Didn't think it'd be that hard, did you?"

Bree gave him a glare. "Don't ever take me on missions, unless I ask you to, sir."

He laughed, and for a moment, it was alright again.

_A.N: So, there it is._

_Dante: That was rather impressive, I must say. How did you manage that?_

_A.N: You should know that by now. Anyway, thank you again. Read and review!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A.N: Okay, long one again. Thanks for sticking. Appreciate it! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, it is property of Bioware._

Chapter 7: Strength

Two weeks had passed since the mission. Since then, she had spent almost every day checking equipment to make sure nothing went wrong on missions, making sure that the Commander was as safe as possible. Bree knew her fears went on deaf ears, since the Commander was stronger than any other man she ever knew, and could shoot well enough to cover his own ass-which was a very nice ass as she could attest-but it didn't mean she didn't worry. After seeing what even a normal mission could be like, Bree didn't even want to think about what other more difficult missions would be.

As her last shift passed, Bree stared at the ceiling of her bunk, just staring. She hadn't been back in her Commander's bed once in the last two weeks, and it worried her. It wasn't that she didn't see him, but the Terminus had been called for clean up and repair of certain colonies of every race, and the Commander had been busy 24/7. That in itself worried her more than anything. When he'd taken a minute to see her in the shuttle bay, he'd looked worn to the bone, the usual light in his eyes dull, and the spring in his step leaden. She stretched her arms, before sitting up. Maybe I should go see him, she thought. Or if he wasn't on board, she could sneak into his cabin and surprise him. That would make him happy. And that was a stupid idea, she thought again, leaning her head against her knees. She couldn't be sexy if she wore skimpy clothes and winked an eye.

Her brain didn't work for sexy, and it certainly didn't work for taking charge. She didn't take charge, James Vega did.

_Still, you could go up, maybe wait to cheer him up, talk to him. Maybe he'll talk more about his time with his old team. At the very least he might take the initiative and you'll be nice and fresh for next shift._

Bree mentally winced when she realized that little voice in her head was becoming more and more convincing to her. Jumping off the bunk she waved idly to the other members playing cards at the table and walked to the elevator. The door opened and Bree grimaced as she saw Fredricks. He blinked before wiping his expression. "Good, I was looking for you, Officer."

Plan put on hold apparently, she thought, nodding. "What is it, sir?"

"You got a call, from someone named Luke? I think he said his name was Luke. He was rather brash and rude about it of course."

Surprised, Bree nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll get right to that."

When they traded places, Bree tried to calm herself. What if her mother wasn't okay? What if Luke couldn't take care of her on his own time? What if she had to leave the Terminus?

Bree reached the Commander's room on the top floor, deciding she would access here, instead of someplace where others could hear. She hoped he wouldn't mind. The door slid open without being forced, but there wasn't anyone inside. Puzzled by this, Bree walked over to sit at the console and linked up her com. A face blipped on and Bree felt her sisterly affection kick in. The face was so familiar, young like her own but worn with fatigue. The auburn hair was pushed back from a kindly face, the familiar green eyes staring with certain warmth as they met hers.

"There's my favorite sister, all dressed up in uniform." The voice was gruff, but held a certain childish tone that would never disappear. She smiled, the small joke something that all her brothers had said when she had contacted them. "I'm your only sister, you idiot."

"Well no wonder you're my favorite. How's it going? Do I need to tell my boss to expect a new member here?"

"No, everything's fine here. In fact I like this assignment very much. I'm thinking of sticking here."

"Really? I never would have figured you a ship girl, but I guess you always liked the big cannons."

She tried not to blush as a déjà vu conversation echoed in her mind. "Yeah well, the Terminus is one fine looking vessel. You should see her Luke, it would have made Trace fierce with envy."

His eyes laughed, as a sweetly sad expression fell on his face. "Yeah, he always did like the Alliance fighter cruisers didn't he?"

"Especially the Turian designed Normandy. Which did I mention I am serving under one of her crew members?"

"Be quiet! Which is it?"

"Commander James Vega."

"Choice! I guess is must be awesome working for a hero."

"Yeah, it's cool alright." She paused letting the warm moment last before she asked sadder questions. "How's Mom? Is she doing alright?"

Luke sighed pushing back his hair in a gesture she knew from her own habits. The whole family had done that habit. "She's doing well I suppose. The doctor said the trauma really pushed her, but luckily she didn't go over the edge. I saw her yesterday, and she seemed alright, cooking again, which is good. But, there wasn't a spark in her eye like usual."

"I don't think she's really had that spark since Brian and Trace, Luke."

He sighed again, looking away sadly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

A silence engaged and neither could say anything else. She was vaguely aware of the door opening behind her but she ignored it.

"So, anything new with Isadora, I know you said something about her last time we talked."

His eyes lit up again, pleasing her. Once mention of his girlfriend colonist made him cheer up instantly. "Oh yeah, guess what? I think it's really serious with her."

"Good for you, Luke. It's about time you settled for someone instead of the hordes of girls hanging on your every movement. Isa would make an honest man out of you, idiot."

"No more honest than you, shorty."

The comfortable laugh was nice, easing the ball on tension in her gut. "Tell her I said hi, and that she needs to convince you to marry her, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I hear you; won't matter if I ask first anyway."

"Alright, talk to you later, call if anything else happens with Mom, 'kay?"

"Got it. Love you lots, shorty."

"Love you too, moron." She brushed a kiss on the screen, which made him gag in humor, before blinking out. Bree leaned back, and sighed.

"He sounds nice." She wasn't startled by the voice, as she figured it was him that entered. Not looking at him, she slowly disengaged the computer, and let her head rest on her linked fingers. "Yeah, Luke's a riot. And he's the only one I've got left."

The sound of rustling came from behind her and she looked through the screen to see James walking toward his closet shirtless. He looked worn out, and dead tired. "Long day, sir?"

He chuckled. "You could say that, chica. Certainly a tiring one; one that makes me wonder how we survived the war in the first place. Politics suck."

"I imagine." With a burst of sympathy and worry for him, Bree stood and calmly walked down to the other side. James had fallen on the bed, and had promptly laid out spread eagle with his eyes shut. He was still shirtless which made a fresh spark of desire shoot through her system, and gather at her loins. She ignored it however in favor of sitting on the bed just by his chest. He didn't move. The silence stretched, and Bree twiddled her thumbs waiting for something to say, or for him to speak. It looked like he had fallen asleep though.

Maybe, she thought, I should just leave. Thinking this, she started to stand up when a hand grasped her wrist. "No," he mumbled sleepily. "Don't go yet. Please?"

Pulled between letting him sleep and wanting to be beside him, Bree stayed where she was. His hand trailed down her wrist to her hand and linked his fingers with hers. She blushed, before returning the contact and staring at the fish tank. Another silence commenced. She thought he might snore next he looked so weary. She took the opportunity to stare at his face without interruption. It wasn't a perfect face by far; it was hard and scarred, rough and rugged. She didn't register her other hand reaching up to trace a light finger over his features.

Starting at the center of his forehead she trailed down and over a strong cheek bone, brushing the small scar just next to his eye. She gulped when the pad graced his lips, which parted just slightly at her touch. From there she fell down to his jaw, before rubbing back up to the ear, and going over the cheekbone on the other side. The finger went back to the parted lips. They were chapped, dry from little moisture, and just slightly red. Unable to resist, not that she wanted to, Bree leaned down to replace her finger with her lips. The warmth spread and even the dryness did not dissuade the desire those lips brought her. When she gently slipped her tongue into the cavern, she sighed at the taste that had haunted her for weeks.

That was when a hand tangled itself into her hair, locking her to those delicious lips. Her squeal of surprise was lost behind her groan of lust when the other's tongue reached out to tangle with hers. He brought their linked hands up to rest on his chest and he tugged her closer to him. Adjusting out of the uncomfortable position, Bree found herself spread over him completely, straddling his waist. Their tongues dueled, but Bree quickly found that she would never beat the man's strength when it came to pleasure.

Parting she stared with darkened eyes and swollen lips at the now open brown eyes of the man below her. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were searching hers. They darkened before he pulled her to him again, lifting his body up to push her into a sitting position. This kiss was a fury of passion, tangling with desire, and Bree found herself being dragged down into the dark depths, unsure whether she wanted to escape or crawl even deeper. A clash of tongues and teeth erupted, hot hands dragging off clothes, before throwing them into the corner of their minds. Skin, was all she could think, she needed to feel his skin on hers. With this one thought bouncing through her mind she grabbed his pants and yanked them open. The sounds of approval made her belly quiver and she let him yank both pants and panties off in one bold move. He flipped them over, leaning over her blocking her view so all she saw was him. It excited her to no end. He kissed her, everywhere from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He exploited her weaknesses, tickling her sides so she giggled, and running his tongue over the back of her knee so she moaned and whimpered. Never had such feelings assaulted her before. For the pleasure, she reached up and let her own tongue drag across his neck, thrilled when he too groaned loudly.

He entered her, hard and swift so that her breath caught in her throat and tears gathered in her eyes. He slowed at the sight of them, brushing them away before whispering sweetly in her ear. How could she tell him they weren't tears of pain, but of happiness? Just months ago, she had thought herself undesirable, and forgettable to the common man. Yet here was a guy, so manly it hurt, who not only thought her sexy and beautiful, but could love her like his life depended on it. He moved at her nod, fast, hard, straining. Bree could only moan and urge him on.

James felt something tug at him, but his mind was so filled with pleasure he couldn't figure out what it might be. He could only focus on the red haze that was filling his eyes. He had been so tired, almost regretting his decisions, when he had spotted this wonderful woman. He didn't know how mild affection and comfort in a kiss could turn him on so much or so fast. The tight heat was excruciating, and he could feel his sanity break inch by inch. He gazed down at Bree, caught in the look of her. She shouldn't be beautiful, she shouldn't have been alluring or sexy, but he couldn't think of any other words to describe her at that moment, straining, calling, and grasping. When he felt her orgasm run through her, hissing as her nails bit into his shoulders in response, he plunged on, seeking his own paradise. She went limp, and he lifted her up closer to him to kiss her again, stir her again.

"Again," he demanded, latching his teeth in her neck. She yelled, grasping at him harder and the tightness around his cock almost suffocated him.

A tidal wave of emotion spread through him as she came again, but he still continued, riding out her pleasure and enhancing it with nips and kisses to her body. Her head shook in denial.

"I can't," she stated. "Yes," he answered. "You can."

Even as her eyes, the sea green dark with her pleasure, opened, he plunged one final time. Her back arched, and his body bowed to meet hers. "Bree," he whispered, falling over her in bliss.

There was a silence, a spreading note after a delirious bout of nirvana. James tried to find the strength he prided himself for to move off of Bree. Her breathing was sounding rather harsh and he knew he was no doubt stifling her. With a mighty push on trembling arms he rolled, dragging her to lie on top of him. Instantly her breathing mellowed out.

Bree was trembling. She couldn't stop shaking, and wasn't all that sure if that was a good thing or not. It had hit her; a wave of something she really didn't want to admit was there. Of course, she just had to keep it in check. Sighing, she focused on laying there and remembering that she hadn't been struck blind and deaf…..she probably had though.

She saw James glance over at the clock hanging on the wall, and was disappointed when he sighed. "Shit," he said, but didn't move. "Guess I'll just have to be late for that briefing."

"I can't say that makes me very sad, James."

Bree laughed and looked to fully see him. His eyes were open, on her. She frowned at his expression. It was confused, but he pushed her head back down against his chest and tucked it under his chin.

"What's the matter?"

He was quiet before speaking softly, almost so she couldn't hear him.

"I thought I would be over you by now, but I'm not. I think I'm more into you than I was two months ago. I don't understand."

Bree could almost feel her heart trip. She leaned back out of his embrace though, as she was unsure what to say back to him. He followed her. She swung her legs off his waist and planted herself on the edge of the bed. Even with her back to him, she could feel him moving closer to her, his chest against her hip and side.

"So," he said, his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear. "How is your mother doing?"

"What?"

"Your mother, you said she was in a hospital. I was wondering since you were talking to your brother if you'd found anything out about her condition."

Bree could only stare at him. He gave her a confused look back. "What?"

Did he know, she wondered. Could he all but see her heart fall at his feet? Did he know what he did to her? What no man had ever in her life done to her. When he rubbed a nervous hand on the back of his head, sending her a 'Did I say something wrong?' look she felt her feet fall off the edge, and Bree wasn't entirely sure there was a bottom.

"She's fine. Doing well, considering, but they still have her under treatment."

"That's great. I know it was making you unhappy. I hate to see mi chica unhappy." He gave a cocky smile before kissing her deeply. When he parted, he smiled again getting off the bed and headed to his clothes on the ground quickly shuffling into them. He tossed hers to her, but she just caught them. He grinned before turning back to finish dressing.

"Well then, I guess I have to go report to the officials. You know how they like their procedures."

He glanced over his shoulder to see Bree hadn't moved one inch. She was simply staring at him with a weird expression on her face. Shrugging it off, he reached over and tapped her nose.

"Don't get too caught up in the work the jerk puts on you tonight, because I really want to be with you and if he gets in the way one more time, I'm going to have to kill him."

"I love you."

"Killing a member of the crew seems bad on the papers so I'd rather…." James stopped, the words registering in his mind at a speed that he couldn't even comprehend. Turning very slowly, he looked at the small little officer who seemed to be on his mind 24/7. Her big green eyes were serious, her face pale, but pink. He didn't see any indication he had heard that wrong. But still he said, "What?"

Bree stood, not at all steady on her feet. "You're the first man to ever joke with me aside from my brothers. You're the first person to ever ask personal information about me without prompt; the first man to laugh at my silliness, the first to care enough to ask how I felt, or what was worrying me. I've never been able to listen to a man for more than a few minutes without feeling like a puny ant or a fool around them. And you are the first man to ever make love to me so intensely it's all I think about in the last hours of the night. I've never cared about someone as much as I do you, I never used to worry about if the weapons were perfect or if the armor would protect you from harm. I can't tell you how much you mean to me, but I guess the only answers that make sense with these feelings that are taking over my heart are that I love you."

She stopped, still looking at him, a small stare before the shock on his face made her glance away shyly, fight in her leaving instantly. The pausing silence was horrible, and she could feel tears prick her eyes. Ruthlessly she shut them down, swallowing them back. Bree would not look like a fool, would not cry after telling her true feelings for the first time in her life.

"You love me?"

The utter shock in those words bruised her heart, but she nodded slowly.

"I don't know what to say."

Bree closed her eyes, and sucked in a breath. When she was ready she lifted her head again to look her Commander in the eyes. "You don't need to say anything, sir. It's my problem not yours. I'm sorry if I sound insubordinate. I just thought I should get that off my chest now, sort of clean it up." Grabbing her clothes, not sure if she should get in them now or wait till she was in the elevator-but that might be too much of a risk- she yanked on her pants quickly and walked by him calmly, headed up the stairs and stopped just before the door at a sound behind her. Breath held not daring to turn around, she waited for something.

"Don't leave."

Tears falling helplessly, she laid her head against the door and prayed she had enough to listen to what he had to say.

"I didn't lie," she said, making sure he knew that. "And if it's all the same with you I don't really want the cliché lines about, 'I'm flattered' or 'I really care about you'. I can't give you anything besides the truth. I know," she added when another step came up behind her. "I know it's against every regulation, and I know it can't happen, but just because it isn't supposed to happen doesn't mean I can stop feeling this way."

"Bree-"

"No, please, I-"

"Shut up and let me talk, mujer!"

Bree whirled around and gasped when James-only inches away from her- grasped her arm and dragged her back to the bed. He flung her down, making her drop the rest of her clothes and flop on the bed. Dazed by the fast movement, she gripped her head. As it cleared she saw he was pacing rather rapidly, and just a little angrily.

"I care about you that I won't lie about. So just deal with it. Do I love you too? Probably."

She blinked, "Probably?"

"Yes," he said angrily. "I'm not sure what the hell I feel. I know that I catch myself staring into space wondering when I'll get to talk to you again, or what you're doing, or if you're being treated right. You are so not my type!" He shouted pointing at her. Bree, taken aback, simply stared at him in both horror and awe. So this was what he looked like really angry. It was….fascinating.

"My type is the woman who is tall, muscular, Amazonia goddess with knowledge of the bedroom and of men; a seasoned veteran, a lengthy blonde, so to speak."

Bree lifted herself, insulted beyond believe.

"No, sit until I've finished. You're going to hear this out. You aren't the only one who can spill his guts."

Again, taken aback at the treatment, Bree sat again. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't get it. You're the farthest thing from my type. You aren't tall you got a slight build, a pixie in comparison, with bright green eyes and shy ways." He gave her a look that made her heart trip again. "I don't know why I'm so damned attracted to you."

He came up to her, sitting on the bed, and Bree saw he was blushing. Her eyes widened in surprise. The Commander, she thought, resisting the urge to pinch herself, was blushing!?

He glanced at her, taking a hand and cupping her cheek. He growled almost instantly. "I hate mushy stuff," he whispered before bringing her up to a kiss. She melted, falling against him again, and he groaned when her uncovered breasts rubbed against his clothed chest. He pulled back, and his expression was serious.

"I don't know if I love you, yet. But know this, when I commit to something, I commit. It's what I do. Do you understand? Is that good enough for you?"

She blinked, letting the words tumble around in her head. She smiled slowly, bringing her hand up to his heart, pleased to hear it beat wildly under her palm.

"Yes, I do, James."

He blushed deeper, before standing and facing away from her to brush off his pants. "Right, since that's all settled; I'm really late for that debrief."

When he began to walk out, Bree launched herself off the bed. Wrapping her arms around his middle she rested herself against his back. He froze before she felt his hands grab her wrists and squeeze once. Bree rubbed her face against his back.

"I love you. You're going to have to get used to hearing it from me, alright, sir?"

James gulped, but wasn't unhappy when he warmed just a little. Rubbing the hands around him, he disengaged them and walked out, a smile spreading on his face.


	8. Chapter 8

_A.N: Oh God, this is super short! Sorry about that. It's just harder to write than I thought it would be and I'm terrible at not finishing stories in years time. Anyway, this one is, well, mostly through. I think? Anyway enjoy chapter 8!_

_Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Mass Effect, it is property of Bioware and any depictions are personal usage only._

Chapter 8: An Unexpected Party (Yeah! I just Hobbit-ed this shit!)

James grinned like a fool. He couldn't help it. Standing before him, a hologram image was his old Commander Shepard. She hadn't changed much, except for the civilian clothes she wore. Her blonde hair was longer since he last seen it, reaching her shoulders as opposed to her chin. Those eyes though, the dark blue eyes that spoke of horror and of courage were the same. As was the light to harsh voice that had made even a troublemaker sit up and beg. She was smiling though, which pleased him. Last time he'd really seen her, she had a sadness and darkness haunting her. The past few months of down time had really done the Commander good.

"Commander Shepard, I can't tell you how happy I am to hear from you."

"Drop the Commander Vega, I'm off payroll remember?"

He laughed. "Old habits die hard."

"Yeah well, I should be the one addressing you, Commander Vega."

He grinned wider, pleased to hear his trainer call him that. "Just following my old trainer's footsteps, Shepard. How's everything going? How's Alenko?"

She looked over her shoulder, and smiled. "Watching reruns, he was complaining that in the last few years he'd missed all the good stuff on TV. I told him he didn't miss much."

"So, is civilian life that boring for you two?"

Shepard shook her head, laughing. "You're damn right it is. I wake up and ask myself what the hell was I thinking, but then I remember gigantic harbingers and I forget about it."

James heard something behind him and glanced to see Bree walk into the com room, he waved once, and she nodded before polite fully stepping out again.

"So," he said, looking back at Shepard. "I'm assuming this call isn't just another social link?"

"You'd be right about that Vega; I've got something for all of you. A party, next week, on Earth. Not a very big one, but one to invite all the crew back for drinks, entertainment, and hanging out again."

James nodded, already knowing his answer. "Count me in, Shepard." Then he thought. "It alright if I bring a guest along?"

Shepard blinked, "You, with a friend? Vega, I'm shocked."

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. So?"

Shepard nodded, smiling. "Yeah, it's alright with me. Kaiden won't care either way. I'll send you the coordinates for the party. Next week, Friday 6 o'clock Earth time."

"Can't wait to see everyone."

"You and me both, Vega."

He waved saying good-byes and closed off.

"A party?"

He turned to see Bree walk in a stack of papers clutched to her chest. He smiled at her shy appearance. No doubt she was shocked at seeing the Legendary Commander Shepard, even if for a second.

"Yeah, I guess she wants to see the others again, have a few laughs and a couple 'remember when's. Should be fun, and since I haven't seen them in forever I think I'd enjoy it a lot."

Bree nodded. "That must be nice, knowing that everybody will stop what they are doing to enjoy time with old friends. Wish I could see that."

"You will."

"Excuse me?"

He laughed quickly kissing her forehead before the cameras could catch it. "I do so enjoy it when you get that shocked tone in your voice. It's just so cute, chica. Yes, you heard correctly. I'm taking you with me."

Bree sputtered, chasing after him when he moved to go to the front of the CIC. In a whisper as the others were around she stopped him. "Why, sir? I don't even know your old team. I wasn't a member of their crew. I'm a member of your crew."

"That's true, but you're not going as a member of my crew either. You're going as my lover." He had said this quietly, but Bree blushed anyway. He nodded just to make sure she understood him. "So, make sure you find a nice party dress, Officer. You're going to need it." He walked away, brushing his fingers gently over her shoulder as he passed. Bree stood, shocked silent before terror washed over her.

She was going to meet the crew of the Normandy. Oh boy.


	9. Chapter 9

_A.N: Alright, here we go again, with another chapter. I'm thinking this one is a little longer than the last, which is good for you, but means the next one has to be of equal or longer length for me. Still, I should be done with this story in the next five or six chapters. Until then, thank you readers for staying with it this long! RxR everybody!_

_Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware, nothing else to say._

Chapter 9: Brother

Bree fiddled nervously. It wasn't like she'd never worn a dress before; she'd just never worn a dress to a party filled with some of the galactic heroes of her time. Being nervous was only natural, but even still it made her feel ridiculous.

She had decided on something elegant yet casual for the party. A spaghetti strap dark green with a loose skirt that reached just below her knees. As she stared into the mirror she felt ridiculous. What if it wasn't that kind of party? The Commander hadn't been very clear what type it was, he'd just called ahead to tell her to get ready, that they were leaving in an hour. Gritting her teeth, Bree sighed before lightly applying some makeup. She usually didn't go around with makeup, it ruined the skin in her mind, but when it was something as nerve-wrecking as this, she could make an exception.

Bree would never want to embarrass the Commander like that.

Sighing, Bree realized that this was a good as it was going to get and she turned to leave the bathrooms. Taking a dark black coat, she slung it over her shoulders to keep off the stares of the other crew members. She and the Commander had agreed to meet at a designated spot so as not to give off too much suspicion, and when they met they would travel together to the party destination. Truthfully, Bree took this as a good sign. She wasn't quite ready to face the galaxy's heroes just yet. Really, meeting Commander James Vega was a big enough deal, but meeting all the others, that would be enormous.

She walked out, and stopped short when she spotted a small group sitting at the table in the barracks. She needed her purse, and that was where said purse was located. Should have thought of this beforehand, she thought to herself, wrapping the coat tighter and walking quietly, yet swiftly to her bunk.

Sadly one of the crew members saw her moving. "Bree, you look nice, you have a hot date or something tonight?" The others turned to look. That got more smiles and looks. Bree felt her face heat up, but kept her head down, grabbing her purse rapidly. "Not really, just some shore leave for the next couple of days."

One laughed. "Lucky we get to take shore leave back on Earth then, huh? There's nothing like being home after so many months out."

Bree nodded to rush along, racing out the door before they could ask any more questions. When she reached the docking door, Bree breathed out a sigh of relief. Fredrickson was nowhere to be found. She would have hated to run into him on this day. Last time she had taken a few days shore leave, he'd shanghaied her into doing work the whole time. She never forgave him for that. It seemed the man got off on telling her what to do, and bossing her around. Maybe it was because she made it so damn easy for people to tell her what to do. At least in the Commander's case she hadn't felt obligated to do anything for him.

Well that one mission didn't count as she sort of boxed herself into that one. Still, she thought smiling, he was the only one that taking orders from appealed to her. It was most likely that little sexual charge she got from seeing him in action. He was hot.

Shaking her head, as this was not the time to drift off into space with thoughts of a man; Bree walked out of the docking hanger and boarded the crowded elevator with the other people. She would have to take the long route it seemed, as the amount of refugees that still occupied the hanger docks was still astronomical, literally. Packed into a small elevator, Bree squeezed herself into the corner, trying not to touch anyone else. Breathing through her nose she reminded herself that it was perfectly safe in here. It wasn't a sense of claustrophobia so much as a fear of setting off a hostile creature who's just a little too stressed for his or her own good. The light on top of the door blipped moving slowly forward. Every few floors it would stop and the steel doors would slide open, along with the bright voice chirping which floor it has landed on. Only eight more floors till the main garden section in the transportation building. The Terminus had docked just south of the Canadian border, and landed into one of the busiest transportation stations.

Counting slowly to ten, she tried to picture what the party would be like. She knew there would most likely be drinks, alcohol. Well, she mentally berated herself; she was just going to stay away from those. The last time she had gotten drunk, well she didn't like to think about it. Needless to say her brothers had given her quite a teasing over her 'affection'. It figured she would be the affectionate drunk of the group.

When the cheerful voice of the elevator indicated the main presidium, Bree launched herself out the doors, careful not to bump anyone of the way out. The presidium was large, and beautiful, even with the snow brushing against the protective glass housing over her head. The room reminded her of the Citadel before it was destroyed. So many colors and plants, and a center fountain that sported a beautifully shaped woman posed to glance at the heavens above. Bree walked over and stared at the plaque on the bottom stone.

_Reach for the Skies and Search for New Dreams_

It made her smile. Sometimes reaching for the stars was a good thing. Sometimes it was a bad thing. As long as you reached for them. Sitting on the side, she glanced around and, not seeing James anywhere, settled to wait for his arrival. The presidium was bustling, every species traveling back and forth—a large number of humans of course—and the room was loud and noisy. She thought she'd never seen anything more wonderful in her life.

Across from her a small girl sat on a bench, alone. She looked up, brown eyes catching Bree's and waved. Bree waved back, a little tempted to ask the child where her parents were, when a man rushed up beside the bench.

"Kaily, there you are! I'm so sorry I was late, the Captain had me doing paperwork."

The girl smiled, and Bree felt a twinge of something touch her heart. "It's okay, big brother, I was fine just here."

The man smiled, taking his sister's hand. "Alright, let's go home now."

The girl nodded, and shuffled off, her hand in her brother's the whole time.

Bree felt her heart pain, and a small tear run down her cheek.

"Sweet isn't it?"

Surprised, she glanced up to see James staring after the brother and sister. "It's nice to know that somehow, life still goes on. That Shepard's sacrifice meant something to the galaxy. But I have to wonder, what makes you cry, chica?"

Bree shook her head, rubbing her eyes to try and dry them. James sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her down to lay her head on his lap. She smiled, warmed by the feeling of his hands running through her hair.

"Tell me, Bree. I'd like to hear it."

Bree nodded. "Well, I remembered something; a memory of my brother."

He made a sound for her to go on, his hands caressing her neck and shoulders. She shivered in delight, but didn't make a move.

"I was eight at the time, and my mother had just divorced my biological father. Well, I'd been waiting in the Presidium, just outside of New York's Tram Station."

_She remembered it now, relating the details to him in a slow way. She'd been so lonely at the time. Her three brothers had all been out of the house, and when you mother had gone to settle the paperwork she had to take her with her. She remembered the lights, the sounds, and the smells. A cart of old hotdogs, classic New York style had been steaming nearby, giving its wares to hungry customers. She'd sat on a bench, dirty with fingerprints and sticky with substances she had no clue about. Her face had been swollen with tears, because her mother had yelled at her earlier. It wasn't her fault she wanted a dad, she didn't understand that he wasn't a good dad, just that she could tell the other kids at school she had one in the first place._

"I didn't really think about it much, but it hurt."

James smiled sadly. "Family is important, even if we can't stand them half the time."

Bree laughed. "Well I realized a little after that that I couldn't stand him all the time so it was irrelevant in the end."

_She continued, telling about how she'd sat for hours alone. When someone had stopped in front of her, she'd stopped crying. The boots looked very familiar._

"_What are you doing here, Pop Rock?_

_She had looked up to see George her oldest brother smiling at her. His blonde hair had been pulled back in a slick tail, his eyes friendly and brown, smiling at her with a cigarette dangling between his bright teeth._

_She wiped her eyes, not one for letting her brothers see her in a weak spot. He was twenty, her senior by twelve years, but he always treated her like an adult. He frowned at her tear filled face and sat down beside her._

"_What's up, Pop Rock? Didn't Mom say you two were going to the attorney's office?"_

_She shook her head, sniffling with little dignity. "She-she yelled at me."_

_George sighed, leaning back, comfortable in his Alliance blues. He reached an arm over the chair, idly grasping at her tangled mass of hair. He smirked._

"_Yeah, she does that. Hey," he said, tugging her head down to rest against his chest, hugging her closely. "Why don't you and I go somewhere fun today? I'm off shift right now, and don't have to go in till tomorrow."_

_Bree had sat, listening to his heart beat. It was loud, and soothing. She nodded, burying her head deeper into his shirt, dripping on it as she continued to cry. "Park," she sobbed._

_He laughed, his chest shaking, before reaching up to blow a long drag off his cigarette. "Yeah, okay."_

"The smell of his cigarette was so comforting, and his hand kept patting my head. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have someone like him around. Then, when I went to the park, only to see all my brothers there waiting, did I finally realize how lucky I was to have all of them."

James watched as though pretty siren eyes stared off in the distance, seeing something he could never see, remembering things that would never happen again, and his heart ached. Gently, he lifted her hand and kissed the tips of each finger. She sighed, and he felt her shift to sit up. When she did, he noticed those eyes had returned, even if they were still wet with tears. He reached up and brushed a thumb under them and she smiled, pretty and sweet.

Then her eyes widened. "Oh," she whispered. He smirked, when she looked him up and down. He was very pleased with the reaction. It wasn't often he wore formal clothing. Instead of the usual white t-shirt and combat pants, he had clothed himself with a pair of black slacks. He wore a casual white button shirt, covered with a black jacket, opened in comfort. No tie, as he refused to put anything like that on his neck ever again. He knew his abuela would smack him for saying that, but she wasn't here to whip him anyway.

"You look," Bree said, at a loss for words. It wasn't everyday she saw him in such a nice outfit. He looked, well, the only thing she could use to describe it was, "uncomfortably hot" but that wasn't right. When he stood, rolling his shoulders to break any cramps, she saw it. He looked like a caged tiger. One that prowled just on the edge of rogue, yet still look refined and cool.

Not his usual personality, but she wasn't going to complain. Bree stood as well, grabbing her purse to sling it over her shoulders. She smiled happily, when his eyes narrowed.

"Okay." He said. "Since you had the pleasure of measuring me up, mi chica, it's my turn." He gestured to the coat she wore.

Nervous, and embarrassed, she handed him her purse, which he-surprisingly-took without a qualm, and shrugged off the black coat. She blushed, but hesitantly smiled when he wolf-whistled.

"Wow, chica. I think we might have to skip the party after all."

"Can we?"

He smirked at her hasty and scared response. "No, but now we know there is a small part of me that does want to. Not going to listen to it though just thought we should know it was there."

Bree winced and sighed. "It's not that I don't want to meet your old crew, it's just….I'm nervous."

He nodded, understanding, before handing her purse and taking her hand, leading her through the crowds. "I know, chica, but relax. The others don't bite…much. They'll like you, I swear on that."

James was pleased to see her nod hesitantly again, and squeezed her hand. While they walked, he was acutely aware of the hand in his.

The small thin palm was shaking slightly with each step they took to the transpo station. It amused and frightened him at the same time. He didn't want to scare her, she was so easily scared about ridiculous things, but he thought it silly to be nervous about meeting people like Garrus and Tali, both of whom were nicer than him by far.

Then again, he'd been damned nervous his first time meeting Shepard. Being assigned to "bodyguard" her, as he so delicately thought of it, had scared him to the bone. It was Commander Shepard, one of the greatest military strengths in the Alliance and the Council force. After meeting her though, he saw what all the others had seen. A woman with heart, guts, and a lot of humanity.

He looked down at Bree once again, and smiled. Shepard would like Bree, he knew that.

They were so much alike.

_A.N: All done, read and review to tell me what you think! Thank you again! Next chapter will be up pretty soon!_


	10. Chapter 10

_A.N: Chapter 10! So glad I got to this point. I'm working on completing the rest of the story, which shouldn't be too hard, but I need to play more Mass Effect 3 to get in the zone again. Anyway, like always, read and review! Tell me what you think about the story, if you'd like something to happen or just anything at all._

_Disclaimer: Since the last time I forgot some asshole got on my case, so I'm paranoid. Mass Effect and James Vega belong to Bioware and Bioware only. Brianna Dirce is my OC. Thank you for not giving me a lawsuit._

Chapter 10: Distressing Atomic Bombs

Bree eyes widened drastically. She took one step backwards, but a strong Hispanic hand prevented her from taking another thirty away from the bright lights of the club. The sign above the door said, "LUNAR ECLIPSE" and the bright blue and neon black made her head hurt. James almost chuckled when he felt her lean back against his hand in an attempt to retreat. "Come on, soldier, and show some spine."

"I think I left it on the ship. Maybe I should go back and get it, sir. OUCH!" Bree leapt forward at the sharp pinch on her butt. Turning, she glared at her commander, whose face was split in a toothy grin. "No 'sir's remember. You're not here as a squad member."

"I should be," Bree mumbled. "Then at least I wouldn't be so embarrassed."

James scoffed, taking her arm in a firm grip, before dragging her to the doors. "You'd be embarrassed no matter what I called you, chica. Just think of it as meeting a family member."

Like that made her feel any better. Bree gulped, but didn't try to escape from his grip.

When they stepped into the building, Bree was assaulted with a rush of sound. It brushed over her like a tidal wave, taking her breath away and setting her already stuttering heart thundering. It was loud, and techno. She resisted the urge to cover her ears, thinking that might be bad manners, and closed her eyes against the bright neon lights throbbing through the air. The air was thick with a mist of sweat and alcohol, but underneath there was something she had only just become familiar with. It made her nervous just thinking about it.

Bree looked over her shoulder to look at James, just to gauge his reaction, and wasn't surprised to find the happy grin all over his face. It figured this would be his kind of avenue.

"You hear, that," he said, having to press his lips to her ear so he could be heard. "I think its Pendulum playing right now. Haven't heard them since I was a kid."

So it was music? Bree could have sworn differently.

They pushed their way through the swarms of people bouncing up and down, making their way over to what looked like a light show parlor. James brought her in closer to his body as a rather rambunctious teen slammed into her, making her gasp and grip James' arm harder. He leaned down, and caught her whimper of distress when the teen turned to glare at the person 'ruining his style' but gaped at the intimidating form before him. Wisely, the kid smiled in apology before scrambling into the throne of bodies once more. James sighed, looking down at the bundle of nerves in his arms.

Bree's body tightened when another man bumped into her hip, causing her to jolt and almost leap into James' arms again. He leaned down, and she felt his lips gently kiss her ear. "Stick close, chica. Nobody will hurt, I promise."

She nodded. And continued, but stopped when another song started to play. The crowd went nuts, screaming with joy before bouncing with more fury than before. James grabbed her arm before tugging her into the safety of the bar. The bartender, a turian with red markings on his alien face gave what looked like a smirk at Bree's frightened look.

"Daft Punk's mix of Robot Rock/Oh Yeah. Gets you humans every time."

"Not me," Bree commented taking in gulps of air to gain her momentum again. James laughed, nudging her hip with his own, before leaning down to kiss her hair. Bree blushed but continued to look down at the bar table. He shook his head, before turning to glance up and down the bar. "I thought she said- Ah, there he is!"

Bree looked up, alerted for some sort of danger, but only saw James' face a joy as he brushed past her to step a few feet down. He yelled a greeting, lost somewhat in the noise level around them, but the voice reached the ears of another turian standing at the bar, waiting for some drinks. The turian turned, and with what could only be described as a victory yell, turned to meet James' hug. Bree blinked, trying to hear what they were saying, but couldn't. She saw them greet each other like brothers, before the turian lightly punched James in the arm and turned to grab his drinks. Bree's mouth ran dry when James stuck his thumb behind him, clearly pointing at her.

The turian looked and caught her eye, and Bree froze. That scar, the features, the commanding presence. It was Garrus Vakarian.

"Hey," the bartender asked. Bree turned to look at him. "You want anything?"

Bree nodded, "A big glass of water please."

He shook his head in disbelief but bent to get it. Bree jolted when a hand gripped her shoulder. She turned to see James and Garrus Vakarian had snuck back over to her.

"Bree," James started, keeping a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Meet, Garrus." The turian smiled, extending a hand to her. "Nice to meet you, Bree."

"Yeah."

There was a silence as she shook delicately at the hand extended, before James burst out laughing. Bree stared at him as if he was crazy. "Seriously, chica, he doesn't bite."

"Not much, Vega."

"So where is everybody?"

"Shepard managed to con a room on the top floor, one with less noise and better food."

"Lucky, she always gets the good perks."

"Yeah, well, you're the last one to get here, so everybody's upstairs already. I had just come down here to grab a few stronger drinks. Jack's here, with Wrex and Grunt, so I'm going to need it."

James laughed, wrapping a comfortable arm around Bree's shoulders. "Well then, I say we meet our amigos before the night ends. Whaddya say chica?"

Bree reached over, grabbed the water and to the amusement of James and Garrus, and surprise of the bartender, downed it in one go. She gulped, took a second to breath, and nodded.

"Sure."

They walked through the sea of bodies again, Garrus taking the lead. Bree's eyes were starting to sting and her head was hurting, pounding with the beat of the bass around them. Up on a small stage, or up on two small stages now that she got a better look-a group of skimpy dressed woman were shaking their asses back and forth with the beat, and dancing for the few of everyone who could see them. Bree felt both disgust and envy. Disgust because she'd lived too long with the sting of sexism and these girls were only advancing that, and envy that they had enough confidence to actually dance like that.

Bree didn't dance. Ever. At least, not while she was sober, which if she had her way would be all the time. The very thought of dancing in any way, let alone a "sexy way" frightened her more than a gun to her head. The three of them advanced to a staircase located to the far east of lighted dance floor, and climbed swiftly. James and Garrus were chatting, talking about this and that, yelling over the loud thumping of the music. Bree winced when the lights went from blues and greens to a nasty flashing of red and yellow. Her mind was on the fritz and a case of nerves in the stomach was making her sicker as they walked. When she stopped, just inches from the top of the stairs, she had to lean against the silver beamed railing to keep her from sinking on the floor.

Her halted motion alerted James who turned to look. His eyes frowned, and he patted Garrus' shoulder to stop him. He stepped down and leaned over to look Bree in the face. He hadn't noticed how pale she had been in the lights, but now that they were above the strobes he noticed her color was draining. He glanced briefly at Garrus, before crouching to look Bree in the eyes.

"Chica, are you alright?"

"No," she said softly, dulled by the music. "I'm so scared right now."

James smiled softly, shaking his head before reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Don't be, chica. I promise you, there is nothing to be afraid of. And don't worry about a thing. If you do embarrass me, well, I'll just have to embarrass you right back, now won't I?"

Bree examined his smile; saw the truth behind it and the teasing light that said everything would be alright. While she wasn't quite sure about that, she still couldn't just leave now. She nodded, before rolling her shoulders and standing to walk back up.

"Well what do we have here?" A voice from above them called out. "Looks like Muscle-Head got a girlfriend."

Bree stared up at the woman before her and gaped. The woman was short, wearing a pair of orange pants and a black shirt that reveal far too much of her abdomen. Her hair was a Mohawk, black and tied in a ponytail that lay on the back of her neck. And she was tattooed everywhere.

James sighed, grabbing Bree's hand before she really bolted down the stairs. "Jack, watch the attitude."

"What, I didn't say anything rude. I was just making an observation. Shit, you see a guy again for the first time in fucking forever, and he jumps down your throat."

"Nice to see you too, Jack. Jack, this is Bree. Bree, this obnoxious foul mouth is Jack."

"Yeah, yeah, nice to meet ya. Garrus did you get me my Splitter?"

Garrus waved the drink in front of Jack's face, and gave what could only be described as a 'right here' face. Jack snarled well naturedly, before she swiped the drink and downed half the contents.

"Well," she started after she'd finished, giving Bree a once over. "Now that everybody's here, this party can really get started."

Bree stood still as Jack smirked, before turning around and walking up the rest of stairs. The hand pushing her forward was accompanied by a sigh, and Bree was forced to follow the hand, as her legs had once again turned to jelly.

"That," she whispered. "Was Jack?"

"Yeah, don't let her foul language bug you much. She's actually gotten a bit better since she started training the biotic students. Every now and then though, she does tend to revert to typical Jack nature."

Garrus chuckled, sending Bree a confident smile. "We choose to ignore it most of the time. That or fight back with more foul language, which doesn't seem to deter her one bit."

"Oh," was all Bree could manage as they ascended the rest of the way up. When they reached the top, Bree froze in her tracks for what seemed like the eighteenth time this evening. Standing before her, or sitting if you wanted to get technical, was the crew of the Normandy. All sitting, or standing around, talking and chatting at once, drinking and enjoying the evening. Bree saw everything, Krogans, Asari, Humans, Quarians and Turians. Seeing them all together in a comforting atmosphere was a first for her.

Garrus lifted his arms, patted James' shoulder and announced quite loudly. "Guess who finally showed up!"

All eyes shifted towards them, and Bree felt like sinking into the plush blue carpet below her. A chorus of greetings erupted from the mass, as one by one, they all came up to hug, punch, or shake James' hand. Eyes trained to her, but quickly moved back to James as he took each greeting in stride. When a woman walked up, James' grin became a smile larger than any other.

The woman was tall, built like an Amazon, and beautiful as sin. Her blonde hair was short, trimmed to her shoulders, and flipped to tilt just a little bit over her deep blue eyes. It covered the scar that stretched across her chin, and flew down her neck to disappear beneath the collar of her dark red shirt. The tight blue jeans showed off hips and legs that made Bree envious, and the smile that stretched over bright pink lips and tanned skin made her jealous. The woman walked over, limping just slightly as she walked, but her body showed power and confidence. And when she stood in front of James, that smirk went friendly.

"Commander Vega."

James laughed, and hugged the woman tightly. Bree almost smiled. It was cute, seeing James act like a kid. Still, that little ball of jealousy rooted in her gut. She ignored it when the woman turned to meet her eyes.

"And who it this?"

Jack snorted loudly, and the rest of the crew all turned to look at Bree in unison. Some with suspicion, some with friendly appraisal, others with disinterest.

Never in her life had Bree felt so self conscious. A dozen thoughts raced through her head, many of which were ridiculous at best.

_Do I look funny? Does this dress seem too formal? Am I wearing my lipstick right? Do I have something in my hair? Why are they staring at me? _

James turned, noticing that Bree's eyes were wide with terror, like the scared mouse he had seen so many times before. His heart ached, and he wished he didn't have to see that look on her face. Before he could open his mouth, Jack waved a hand.

"She's his girlfriend."

There was a silence, a pause, before voices erupted into each other. James shook his head at the questions, as one by one they bounced off, and flung themselves at Bree, who shrank every second.

"Hey," the woman shouted, and everybody quieted instantly.

She turned back to Bree before extending her hand. Her smile turned friendly.

"My name's Sarah Shepard? What's yours?"

Bree looked up at Shepard, before darting her eyes to James'. He nodded, giving an encouraging smile.

Gulping, the little mouse reached her hand out, and it shook just slightly.

"My name's Bree Dirce."

_A.N: After note, I tried to get some of the characters in there, but it's hard to do so many at one time. Sorry about that, it might seem a little off. Next time I'll get a few more familiar faces in me promise. Alright, so it will be some time before the next chapter comes out as I am moving in two weeks time. When I'm settled in, which could take another month, I will complete Mi Chica! Okay, readers, okay! See you next time!_


	11. Chapter 11

_A.N: Okay, sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, but I'm glad I got what I got, considering. Moving into college and living on your own is a tough change for someone like me. Anyway, I will return to the sexy time in the next chapter, including a drunken Bree….whoops, spoilers. Here you guys go! Read and review to tell me what you think of the story so far!_

Chapter 11: Screw the Rumors!

Three hours in and Bree was not entirely sure how the alcoholic beverage got into her hands. She was pretty sure it was one of the humans, as Asari don't generally drink, Tali, the quarian, who Bree deemed her new best friends, was taking all the drinks, and the Krogans, Wrex and Grunt were too busy trying to pick fights with the Commander, who was more than willing to take them on. He had already had five tall drinks.

Still, she had kept true to her promise, and took not a single sip. But as each second ticked by where one crew member or another took their drunken stupor out on her-they had decided that asking questions about Commander Vega's anatomy was proper conversation-the drink began to look just a little bit more tantalizing.

This time it was Tali taking a quick shot at conversation with the anti-social Gunnery Officer.

"So" she said, drawing out the one syllable as much as the inebriated Quarian could. Bree tensed when her masked face turned to her. Across from her, the wonderfully kind Asari, Liara gave her a look of sympathy. The look didn't make Bree feel any better.

"You and James, huh?"

At the risk of being called a 'fat liar' again the last time she tried to deny it-the man called Joker hadn't given her any leeway- she just nodded.

"Must be difficult. Him being at a higher position and you being his subordinate."

"Well," Bree started, looking behind her to find the Commander. He was laughing like a drunken loon at, who she thought, was Jacob. Or maybe it was….

Well one way or another, a small smile came to her lips at the sight of her Commander acting so silly. She thought he would never act like this, almost like a child. In a way, she was glad to be wrong. Seeing him drunk suddenly made her drunken behavior slightly better.

"We," she began, turning back to catch Liara's smile. "We get along well enough ourselves."

Tali didn't seem to listen as she had leapt up and tugged at Garrus' arm. "I have an idea! Let's dance! I really want to dance right now!"

"Alright, alright," Garrus winced at the death grip the Quarian currently had on his arm. She dragged him along at a rapid pace, practically running down the stairs to the dance floor. This, Bree noted with great pain, was still shining bright neon lights and pumping loud music.

As the rest all started to jump up and run down the stairs, including Bree noticed with great distress, the calming aura of Liara. Now she was left upstairs, with James, Kaiden Alenko (another freak out on her part) and Commander Shepard. They sat silently, despite the loud sounds surrounding them. James was in an intense conversation with Kaiden, most of which was slurred around the edges, but still coherent. That left Bree to stare at Shepard in awe.

A smile graced the lips of the woman on the other side of the couches.

"You know, I'm really not going to attack you if you ask me a question."

Bree felt the heat grow on her cheeks as she ducked her head. Was she really that easy to read?

"In fact, I'm quite used to the questions. I always seem to bring that response in others. They question, and I answer."

There was a humming pause between them, punctuated with Kaiden and James' laughter over a joke between friends.

"Commander-I mean-um…"

"Shepard works just as well, Officer."

"Right, sorry. Shepard. I was just-"Bree paused again to catch her breath before, dropping the cup and leaning over her knees to better look Shepard in the eyes.

"How did you survive it?"

Shepard smiled, but it was sad and pained. It made Bree wish she could have taken it back. Those blue eyes wandered over the room and landed on Kaiden. The smile brimmed just a little bit with happiness.

"By knowing there were still people in this world that needed me."

Bree trailed her gaze over, glancing at the two men. She felt a smile come to her lips as well. "I see. That makes sense."

"Besides," Shepard said, chuckling. "If I had died, then those bastards would have been way too happy about it wherever they are now."

Bree laughed quietly, and blinked at the involuntary sound. It made Shepard laugh as well. "I like you, Bree Dirce. You're just the kind of person I would have liked to have on my crew."

Bree flushed, shaking her head. "Me? Oh no, I would never belong-"

"And why not? You think you aren't good enough? You made it to James' crew."

"Only because my CO was transferred to the Terminus. I was just trailing along. Like I always do." The last words ended on a whisper, the bitter taste of the truth behind them stinging her tongue. Shepard shook her head, tipping the glass in front of her back. She gasped at the sting before standing and walking over to Bree.

"Then do the crazy thing. I find following orders all the time, makes it really hard to save the world. Let alone save yourself."

Bree looked as Shepard walked over, grabbing Kaiden's hand. When she tugged him up, she slapped her lips against his, making James blush red (Kaiden did as well) before dragging him off to join the rest on the dance floor. Bree's eyes followed her out. The stab of jealousy caught her by surprise. The woman was fearless.

James lumbered over, sitting in front of the Bree with a goofy grin on his handsome face. "You okay, chica?"

Bree made a sound of acknowledgement. She didn't turn to him.

"It's actually funny."

"What is?"

"Shepard can't even dance."

Bree frowned in confusion finally turning back to her Commander. "Then why is she going to dance?"

James smiled, humoring glittering in his eyes.

"Because everybody knows she can't. Plus, it's not like she cares."

Bree gave a small laugh. James frowned, the buzz doing nothing to hide the sad look on his lover's face. "Are you sure you're alright, Bree?"

She looked up, catching his eyes. With one look Bree nodded. She grabbed the glass in front of her and, taking a deep breath, drained it in one go. The sharp taste seared her throat, burning hard in her gut. Shaking her head to stave off the taste, she glanced at James.

"Let's dance."

As she stood, James' smiled widened. He jumped up, shrugging off the suit jacket, before yanking Bree's arm to lead her downstairs.

_A.N: Next chapter up in a couple of weeks, maybe less if my creative buzz lets me think of some good sex scenes!_


	12. Chapter 12

_A.N: *Takes a deep breath* Alrighty! Here we go, next chapter. I apologize now for any issues or grammar mistakes in context of this chapter. I've been so tired lately that writing has become a difficult task for me. I still love to do it, but….you knows. Anyway, this upcoming sex scene took forever because I could not for the life of me get it to go the way I pictured it. As it is, I've got maybe two or three more chapters before the end. Read and Review what I've got so far. Thanks!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect; it is property of Bioware Company. Bree is an Original Character concept so she does belong to me. Thank you for not suing._

Chapter 12: Tispy Wipsy Nipsy!

The pounding in Bree's head was nothing compared to the bump of her heart. Five, count them, five drinks and the very sound of Bree's inner logical voice was silenced. Well, not exactly silenced, more whooping it up with that part of her brain that begged her to do whatever she could. And right now it was screaming at her to grind just a little closer to her adorably hot Commander.

The pulsing beat of the bass was growing louder in her skull, and every sense of reason was quickly forgotten. Deep within, some senile part of her was astonished at her behavior. The fact that those drinks were quickly depleting an instant after they reached her hands meant she was further gone than she had originally thought.

What took the cake was the fact that she almost had a danced crazed orgy with Liara, Tali, and Miranda, and you had one hell of a drunken Officer.

The music changed and Bree dug herself deeper into the crowded dance floor, fascinated by the blue lights flashing back and forth in front of her vision. After the first few moments, when she noticed some of the crew disappear and reappear several times, she had decided worrying about that shit would have to wait till the hangover the next morning.

She lifted her arms, letting her hips swing with the beat moving through her. Her heart pounded, he pulse scattered. The sweat was dripping from her like water, but she wasn't disgusted, or repulsed at her behavior. If anything it just energized her more. Looking around, in a haze, the blobs and masses of people jumped, grinding and moving around distracting to her senses. She needed to find something. Something that was important to her. Not her sanity that could wait. No, she thought when her green eyes spotted him at the bar. He was laughing like a loon, having and arm wrestling contest with Grunt-it was a stand-off at the moment- and gulping down a drink every time he lost. Her mind focused on him, just him, in his white shirt, already unbuttoned to the breastbone, the sweat from the heated area getting to him. His upper lip was covered with that sweat, and even as she advanced his tongue poked out to lick at it. Bree felt her body heat up even more as she tried to make her way over to him.

Something primitive inside she was calling out, telling her to find her mate, to touch and feel him for her. When she bumped into someone, Bree felt her balance break just a little, before a sturdy hand came up to catch her. Looking up in a daze, she saw the face of Commander Shepard, whose smile was brilliant and not just a little drunk.

"Whoa there, Officer!" she yelled over the crowd and music. "You seem in a hurry to go somewhere! Thought you were dancing!?"

Bree felt the smile come to her face and imagined it was just a dopey as it felt. "I am, but," she stressed, resting a hand on Shepard's shoulder, something her sober self would have squeaked at. "I need a partner for that little endeavor!"

Shepard turned to see where Bree's eyes had fallen, and smirked. Ah, she thought, poor Vega. He was going to be very uncomfortable, very soon. Shepard turned to glance at the small little girl before and felt a rush of pride fly through her. There was a drunken lust in those eyes, but underneath love shone through. The well of pride turned to pity at the lust filled eyes. Poor Vega, indeed.

Clapping a hand on Bree's shoulder, Shepard leaned down to whisper in the girl's ear. "Show no mercy, Officer."

Bree nodded her smirk growing as she started once more towards the alcove that contained her target. When it was within feet of her, she stopped and put on her best face, walking as well as she could up the steps.

Vega was drunk, he knew that, could tell in his own mind he was. He still wasn't drunk enough not to be totally aware of his surroundings, but if he kept losing to Grunt that was going to be rectified very soon.

"Come on, Jimmy!" Garrus said words of encouragement. "You can't tell me, you're just going to let that Krogan beat you, are you?!"

"Shut up, Scars!" he yelled back, with no anger of course. "I'm just getting started here!" He swallowed down one more shot before lifting his arm again. "Come on, Grunt! Once again!"

The Tank Krogan chuckled, lifting his hefty arm again. "You just don't know when to quit, human. Fine. Once more!"

Just when the others started to cheer, there was silence (or as quiet as it could get with the music so loud). James looked around and caught the eye of Joker, who was staring quite blankly at James' left. Confused, the Commander turned and came face to face with a rather attractive looking set of breasts. His mouth watered instantly, before slowly lifting that gaze to meet a deadly set of siren's eyes. What he saw there made him harden instantly.

"Am I interrupting?"

As a group, they all shook their heads.

"Good."

Bree smirked, and Vega had the vague thought that he'd never seen that expression before on that particular woman. He felt her grab his arm and tugged him up. She shouldn't have the strength to tear him up from the seat, but he was practically boneless, and followed like a puppy. He heard Joker definitive, "You go Vega!" but didn't pay any attention to it.

Bree led him through the crowd, with the confidence she had lacked just hours before. He was so aroused right now, he couldn't put words together.

When they were in the center of the dance floor, surrounded by people of every type, mashed together, Bree turned to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Time to dance, Commander."

James felt a shudder break over his skin at the feel of that soft tiny body pressed against his so tightly. His senses dulled and his eyes drooped so that only she came into his vision, and in a fit of passion he smashed his lips against hers.

Teeth clashed and clicked together as they sloppily kissed. The feel of his tongue against hers made Bree moan deep in her throat. Songs switched and the beat flowed through her. Her hips moved, grinding against him. James groaned tightening his hold on her arms, before trailing them down towards her gyrating hips. The movement was fascinating, and he watched following her with his eyes.

He couldn't look away. Who knew that with a few drinks that tiny little mouse could turn into such a dirty little vixen? Now he knew where that vixen was.

Hidden beneath the surface, like the first time he'd kissed her. It drove him nuts. He gripped her hips tighter leaning his head down to attach his lips to her neck, taking a huge bite.

She groaned, lifted her arms above her head to give more range of movement. James reacted by lifted his hands to meet hers, gripping their palms together, before he brought them back down to caress her belly through the dress. Her eyes hooded, mouth opening slightly to get more breath. Because any that she had was gone.

It continued. The dance was dark and sinful, and neither really cared. Bree was so far gone from her normal self that dancing like this was natural. James was so aroused that the thought of stopping was like putting a gun to his head. She bumped and grinded against him, and that one time where she dipped sent him so far into heaven he yanked her back up and ravished her mouth again.

Bree then realized one thing.

She had to have James. Now.

When she met his eyes again, he seemed to get this message clearly through his brain. Nodding he gripped her arm and roughly dragged her across the room. He almost made it to the door, the entrance when Shepard stepped in front of him. He was still sober enough to be embarrassed at leaving the party like a hormonal teenager at prom. But when she just smiled, he noticed a very dazed Alenko right behind her.

"See you tomorrow morning, Vega."

He nodded, giving his old superior a grin, before once again dragging Bree against him and out the door. Lucky Alenko, he thought, and then looked back at the chica at his beck. She was grinning at him, her eyes clouded.

Lucky him.

! #$%^&* #$%^&*! #$%^&

They hadn't made it to the ship. They hadn't even gotten close. Instead James blindly ran into the first hotel he found. He slapped his money on the table, and one look on his face made the man behind the counter shut his mouth and silently hand over a key.

The door to the elevator hadn't even closed fully before his arms and mouth were full of hot chica. He moaned, gripping at her dress in a sense of panic. He felt like he was going to explode any second. But he couldn't bring himself to let go, to slow down. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with the flesh of hers. The little sounds she made sent him straight to hell. He pulled back with a gasp and let his head fall against the blue wall of the elevator with a clang.

Her hands were busy at work. Bree smiled as she panted. Palming his erection, she felt powerful watching his face, as he bit his lips to keep the moans at bay. She didn't want that. With quick fingers only a mechanic would have, she unbuttoned and unzipped him, and sank her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers underneath. James cried out. He looked down at his chica, and groaned at the devilish smirk on her face. Siren, he thought vaguely, he should have figured that out by now.

The elevator chimed, announcing their floor. But he couldn't move, not with her hand rendering him immobile.

"Bree," he gasped, desperate to get her inside and get inside her.

Bree nodded, but she was so reluctant to let go. He felt so good, so powerful and strong. Leaning up, she did what she had always wanted to do.

"Take me, James."

James saw red; his vision literally blanked and in its place was something hot and violent that he rarely let out, aside from the battlefield.

With a growl, so much like a wolf's Bree jolted, he grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder with enough force to make her teeth chatter.

He muttered something, and Bree closed her eyes in bliss at the rough sound of Spanish falling from those scarred lips. "Hmm," she hummed, letting her hands trace circles against the beautiful ass presented to her. "Say something else, please. It makes me so hot."

The hands on her tightened, and the sound of hissing came from him. She giggled, before smacking his ass for good measure. She squealed soon after when a hard slap hit her own ass.

"Watch it, chica. I'm not feeling gentle right now."

She moaned, kissing his back through the cloth. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, please."

The door opened at the swipe of the pin card, and James hobbled through. It was hard to walk straight with the combination of alcohol in the bloodstream and a very horny mechanic wiggling on his shoulder. Her lips pressed through cloth, mouthing and tongue the texture of the material. She moaned and giggled every few seconds. James had enough. He needed her. Now.

Bree felt the world flip as she was tossed rather forcefully on to the fluffy bed. She took only a second to look at the golden silk sheets and white duvet. The pillows were like little clouds and the canopy of the luxurious hotel room bed was mirrored. She stared at the reflection staring back at her.

Her intoxicated brain took notice of her appearance. Gone was the shy and feeble little woman. The clothes she wore, the very outfit she worried herself over for hours about was loose, the strap sliding down her arms revealing the white skin. Her lips were red, swollen from James' rough kisses. Her cheeks were flushed from heat, alcohol, and exertion, and the curling mess of her hair was fanned out around her. She smiled, a cat like smirk, and she felt powerful.

She glanced up, peeking between her upright knees, to see James tossing off the button down by yanking the material over his head. The shirt caught just briefly on the chain around his neck before he tore it off and threw it haphazardly into the distance to float and land on some random surface. Bree licked her lips, admiring the view that was laid out before her. Those deep brown eyes were attached to her, digging into her soul.

"James," she mumbled and watched him freeze at her tone. The drunkenness was still there, he realized, slurred behind that small tone. She was smiling, sweet and sexy all rolled into one little package. He couldn't have imagined himself being with someone so much smaller than him, but here he was ready to throw all that out the window. He clicked his tongue. The room was spinning just slightly due to the pressure in his dress pants, but he still managed to make a sound. Bree blinked, confused before her eyes showed understanding.

"Oh, now it's Commander again, is it sir?"

"I thought that was what you preferred Brianna?"

She growled at the name and he chuckled darkly at the sound. "That's right. You don't like that name. How about, Officer? Will that do?"

Bree's could almost feel the sensible side of her try to break through the barrier of her alcohol driven brain. It was prying telling her to stop being an idiot and sober up, quickly. How ridiculous she was acting, like some two dollar whore. But, it wasn't enough. She sat up, crawling on all fours towards James at the edge of the bed. He gulped, feeling the intensity of the gaze. When she reached the edge, her fingers stretched out, teasing the loosened fabric of his pants. James gasped again, feeling his eyes roll back. A light purr came from below him, and the sound of material being shifted away echoed through his pounding ears.

His erection sprang free, slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. Bree looked at it inquisitively. She glanced up at those eyes that were now searing her body. "Commander," she whispered, ghosting her breath over the throbbing organ. Her answer was a low groan of frustration.

"Can I play with your gun?"

James Vega knew right then and there that his chica was drunk. In a sober state, he had no doubt in his tequila mixed mind that Officer Bree Dirce would never, and he meant never, make such a terrible innuendo as that. Still, James Vega had never had sex with a drunken Officer Bree Dirce, so the words sent a delicious shiver through his body towards his dick.

Playing along with the game his chica had suddenly come up with, he reached out to tangle his hands in the soft brown hair between his legs.

"Yes, Officer, you may."

The demand was braced within her as she took him in her mouth, cupping gently at whatever her mouth could not fit around. In the dull part of her mind she thought about how this was her first blowjob ever. Not that it mattered. From the noises that were coming from above her she was sure she was doing it right.

Her tongue wrapped around him, and James groaned, grabbing her hair and pulling her away. "Stop, Bree."

She licked her lips, looking up at him inquisitively. He closed his eyes to gather himself, before continuing, petting the hair between his fingers as he explained. I want to come with you."

Not on her, but he was sure that could come a little later. Still she nodded, blindly tracing her fingers over his thighs, the gesture was both soothing and erotic at the same time, and James had to fight once more from releasing too early. Odd, that had never been a problem for him before.

He reached down and carelessly yanked the sexy little dress off of Bree, before pushing her back to flop down on the sheets once again. He climbed over, feeling her hands dig in to his hips as he settled over her. Bree smiled at him, but as he lowered to take her mouth with his, she shifted her weight flipping them both over so she was now on top.

James smirked, taking her tiny hips in his hands, as she slowly pulled his pants down and off, before coming back up to once again take him in her mouth. His vision blanked out, and before he could yank her off, he released. The sound of a howl released from his throat.

Bree swallowed the cum, not even acknowledging the taste of it, before she let him go, and licked her lips. She couldn't really think right now, and the room was blurred and heavy. She kissed around his hips, nuzzling the tight flesh of his abdomen and licked around the dark curls at the base of his again rising dick. He was so handsome, so strong. And something inside of her wanted to retreat into that warm embrace of his. So she crawled back up over him, and as he reached to kiss her-she returning the gesture full-heartedly-she curled into his arms.

"Love you," she whispered. "Love you James."

James closed his eyes as the warm sound of those words reached deep inside him. Even the passion did nothing to dull that warm gesture. He brought his arms up to hold her tight against him. His mouth opened, the words caught in his throat. They didn't come out, they couldn't just yet.

Instead of answering, which was hard, he lifted his chica so that she was level. "I know, Bree."

She smiled.

Then she smirked, before lowering herself to take him in.

_A.N: Done! Good. Next chapter up soon hopefully. Thank you!_


	13. Chapter 13

_A.N: La-di-da-di-da! Alright, short intro. Here's the chapter, enjoy, review, you know the drill._

_Disclaimer: Don't own, blah-blah, won't own._

Chapter 13: God, How I Hate Hangovers

Bree wasn't fully aware of where she was. And for the first few seconds in time, as she stared into the darkness, she was afraid she'd gone blind. It certainly felt like it. The silk of the bed sheets was warm, and the light sound of snoring was coming from her right.

Bree figured that the strong, muscular arm wrapped around her midsection belonged to her Commander, but you could never be too sure.

Slowly, as she felt sluggish at best, she tugged the arm off and flipped off the covers. But when she went to stand, the room spun mercilessly in the dark, and she had to sit back down before she fell.

What had happened? And why did it hurt to think about it?

With the taste of sawdust in her mouth, Bree shuffled to what she thought was the viewing screen. In the dark it was hard to tell, but she assumed it was the screen. When she clicked it open, the light from the sun outside shone through the screen.

She hissed, the light blinding her and sending her careening out of it. Her head pounded, aching and throbbing against the harsh glare.

"Holy Fuck!"

This came from the gruff voice behind her on the bed as the shuffle was obvious. The loud bang of the body hitting the floor was also heard. Bree hissed reaching over blindly to close the view screen again, switching it off as fast as she could. The room was once again plunged into darkness.

A groan of pain came from behind the bed and Bree had to sit on the carpeted floor to get her bearings. Her head was killing her!

"Shit, chica," the dry voice said. "Warn a man next time."

"What?"

"I said," but that sound trailed off into another groan. "Shit, damn hangover."

Hangover, she thought, before her eyes widened. Her pounding head crashed together as memories flew into each other smacking her back each time. Party, dancing, loud music, sex, lots of sex.

She moaned, curling into a tight ball of embarrassment and humiliation.

The sound of someone crawling towards her didn't register until a gentle hand patted her shoulder to find her.

"Bree?"

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, hiding her face away from him. Even in the dark she was sure he could see her blushing face. "I acted like such a fool last night. I'm so sorry for everything. I probably embarrassed you, and in front of THE Commander Shepard. God, I don't even know why I did that. I don't drink, I know I shouldn't. I don't think when I do, and now look what I've done. Oh god."

Bree could feel tears come down her face. She felt like an asshole, acting the way she did. That wasn't her at all, and she never wanted that kind of person to be so close to her.

James stared in the dark at the curled figure before him, feeling both the constant nauseous feeling of hangover, and the cruel twist of guilt. He shouldn't have let Bree drink so much if this was how she felt the next morning. But, he thought, reaching over to take her arm.

"You were fine, chica."

"No I wasn't. I did horrible things."

"No, you did sexy things."

She groaned, curling tighter, even as he laughed. He crawled closer to her before taking her in his arms. He kissed her neck, feeling the heat of her blush all the way down her face. It made him smile. "I thought you were sexy. And hot. Seeing that side of you made me appreciate how much of a seductress you really are."

Bree shook her head, but hissed as the gesture made her head pound. James chuckled, gripping her closer.

"I enjoyed seeing you unwind, chica. It was very educational. I like that side of you."

"Really?"

"Well, I do enjoy my little mouse too, but seeing the panther come out was certainly entertaining. We'll just leave her for special occasions, what do you say?"

Bree finally removed her hands from her face and reached up to grip his arms tightly. A small smile crept on her face. "Okay, sir."

They stayed in silence for a second. Finally, James coughed awkwardly, before crawling over to the bed again. "I vote we head back to bed, chica. I've got one hell of a hangover right now and sleeping into oblivion sounds like a good idea to me."

Bree nodded bringing her hand up to her pounding head. "Oh man, ouch."

He stood up and slowly helped bring her to her feet. Kissing her forehead and brushing back her tangled hair, he smiled letting her lean as he led her back to the bed. "I'll get us some water and painkillers. Just lay back down and try to ignore the pain till I get back, 'kay?"

She nodded again, burying herself back under the soft covers of the bed. She watched from the corner of her eyes as James fumbled around in the dark, before finding the bathroom door. The bright light switching on had Bree hiding her head under the pillow and giggling lightly at the brisk swearing in Spanish. She listened, content to let her hero try to find medicine. By the string of cursing she believed that was a no go on anything helpful. He stumbled out of the room, and made his way over to the bed. Bree let out a shriek when he fell, the whole weight of him on top of the bed, and right on top of her. Her struggles and shrieks combated with his roaring laughter at Bree's futile attempt to dislodge him from being on top of her.

"Sir," she cried, hiccupping with laughter. "I can't breathe. Get off!"

"What? I think I hear someone speaking, but I can't see anything underneath all these blankets."

"Sir!" The protest came louder as did the kick from underneath. "I have a hangover. It hurts, and now I can't breathe!"

"That isn't my fault, mysterious voice."

"Yes it is!" With each word, Bree punctuated it with a swift kick. Though she didn't dislodge him, she did succeed in making him shift just enough so she could get a breath into her lungs. She was about to shove off the covers of the bed, when hands gripped hers through the blankets. Her breathe caught for an instance when that body above her shifted to an embrace. The laughter was low, and sweet, like the ones she had heard when she had first met him. His voice whispered through the thin silk.

"Te adoro. Mi chica."

She fumbled, trying to remember any Spanish she had come across in her past. Her mind processed it. It wasn't "love" she knew that much, but something sweet. Something close to it. "Mi chica" didn't he always call her that. She never really understood what it meant and why he had nicknamed her that, but…

"Sir," she mumbled through the silk. His small noise of acknowledgement came through the sigh of contentment he gave. But she fumbled her mind not ready to ask that kind of question. What he had just said.

So instead she asked, "Why do you call me that?"

"What? 'Mi chica'? It just fits with you. Ever since I met you, it's been the one thing I can think of calling you."

"No," Bree replied, slowly bringing the cover down to poke her eyes over the sheet. She met his brown eyes, and saw they were warm and calm, relaxed. It was the first time she'd really seen them that relaxed before. Before, they always held a certain hardness of a soldier.

"When we first met you just said, 'chica' but after….well you started to add the 'mi' in the beginning."

James pulled back abruptly his eyes searching in his mind. He had never thought of that. After a time, when he'd gotten to know her, he had called her that. Had he really given any thought to the term? He blinked, truly confused with himself. Had he just been subconsciously saying it? Or maybe, he had known all along?

He sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He felt Bree sit up as well, and heard the shifting of sheets and space and she crawled over to him. James didn't move at the gentle, small hand on his shoulder.

"Did," she started, quiet, as if afraid. "Did I say something wrong?"

James had to chuckle at that. The one who had confessed so blatantly that she loved him was asking if she had said something wrong. Well, he thought to himself, she was always so careful with her words. And only with him, it seemed, was she able to express herself fully. He had noticed that. Around any other, she was quiet, meek, silent and reserved; ready to fulfill any order given to her, without question. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and saw her quiet eyes were worried, and scared. He grimaced at the look. He hated seeing that look. On anyone, particularly, but on her, it just shouldn't be there.

"No," he whispered. "No, chica, you didn't. It's just, I never realized it myself."

"Oh, well is it a bad thing? I mean, I don't really get what it is you're trying to say about me."

But Bree did know, kind of, what it meant. It just never occurred to her it meant anything much, other than a clever nickname.

James gulped, trying to collect himself. "You know it means, 'My girl', right?" At her nod, he continued. "I guess I was almost, well, claiming you as mine."

Bree blinked.

"Bree, when the Spanish speak they use possession. Mine, yours, ours, that kind of thing. So when I call you 'Mi chica' I am basically saying you are mine."

Her mouth hung open as she processed the information. Then a deep red blush spread over her face. "Oh."

James grinned. "Yeah," he mumbled, lifting her fingers to kiss the tips of each. "'Oh' Indeed."

_A.N: I apologize first off on it being so short, but I'm doing my best on this side of things. The title is just, well, you can tell. Even if it doesn't fully fit, I think it works well here. I've got two more to do which should end us off on a good 15 chapters by the end. That's not too bad is it? They should be either fairly long or fairly short, depending on how the writing goes. I'd say another two to three weeks for those to come up. But don't look at me for that, I need the rest of the inspiration first. Alright, thank you again for reading. Ta-Ta!_


	14. Chapter 14

_A.N: OH GOD I AM SO SORRY! I left you all hanging for a while. God, I am so happy to finish this. Not that I didn't love this story, I really did. It was great, but so much work. I know I said something about two or more chapters, but this is it. The last one. I apologize if it's rushed at any point. And there isn't any sex scene in the last one, but there is conclusion. And everybody wins, well kind of. I apologize for loop holes or anything that makes it seem like shit. But it is just a story I put together. As always Read and Review. I would love to hear your comments on it._

_Disclaimer: For the last time. I do not own Mass Effect Characters. They are the property of Bioware and only them. I do own any characters I in fact created, but other than that, nothing, nada, zip!_

Chapter 14: Mi Chica

Two Weeks Later

Bree walked off the elevator in a rush her head down, eyes directed at the little screen she carried. Her eyes darted as she read reports, information, and articles. Invoices, ones that specifically said which weapons had been transported to the Terminus' storage, and which links to stores on the market the Terminus had available. It was a lot of information.

And she was so ready for it. Cataloguing had always been her specialty. She could have taken the worst storage unit and catalogued and organized it till every single item was color coated, number bared, and given a specific time of release and restocking. Computers were easy to her, and that was a part of the job, maintaining weaponry was a job as well, though more entertaining. Doing stuff like this made her feel organized. In a sense it had something to do with being the only girl in a household with four older brothers, stuff got mixed up in the mess that was her brothers. Especially where Trace had been involved. The man had been terrible had keeping things clean, and it had pissed her mother off to no end when things didn't get cleaned. She had always been so tired, that it wasn't until Bree was older had she realized her mother had no time to clean at all.

But, Bree thought, as she walked over to the nearest weapons requisition terminal, all that self-cleaning paid off in the end, since here she was, cataloguing firearms for the V-1 Terminus.

She stopped and looked around, feeling that small warmth flutter in her. She looked over to see one of the engineering members snacking on a candy bar, while another engineer fiddled with an omni-disk. They both looked up and smiled at her, waving, before going back to what they were doing.

She felt accepted here. It was like this ship was where she belonged. It was home. And there was something here that meant the entire world to her. And it wasn't just the beauty that was the Terminus-though that did count for something. Leaning up against a wall, while the machine calculated the data, she gently caressed a hand over the interior of the ship. She smiled.

"You saved my life, girl. I can't thank you enough."

Resting a head against the wall, she listened to the hum of the ship as it flew through space. She smiled again, content. That's when she heard it.

Far in the corner, against the loads of firearms and equipment she heard the voice flow over the hum. It was quiet, hushed, and if she hadn't been listening to the soft sounds already she would have missed it.

"I can't believe I've been stuck on this piece of metal for this long already. Ridiculous!"

Bree tipped her head, a confused look passing her face. It sounded familiar but she couldn't tell. Slowly, and silently, she tip toed her way over to press an ear against the cartons, just behind the voice.

"That jug head had the gall to call me out on my performance. He said I was performing, 'like I didn't give two shits'. Do you believe that? That arrogant sod! Does he really think I will take that kind of abuse?"

There was a pause and shuffle of feet, Bree knelt down to steady her, focusing on the voice. It was really familiar, and sounded exactly like-

"And you know what else he said? He said I should watch how I treat my subordinates. Said that if I wasn't careful, I could be called out on harassment. Hah! That's a joke, as if that puny little nobody would call me out on anything. Almost seven years she's been under my command and not once has she shown any balls. I almost laughed at his face. When I get into the office, I swear to you the first thing I'm going to do is ruin that man's career. Then I'll get the little nobody down so low she won't even see the sun again."

Bree gulped. She knew exactly who that was. And from the sound of it, he was pissed. Breath coming in heaves now, Bree stood carefully and walked back as calmly as possible before reaching over to grab the file from the terminal. Before she could escape a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Officer Dirce!"

Bree spun around her hair whipping her face and her eyes wide. Did she ever realize how truly nasty and terrifying that man was? Yes, she did, constantly.

"Sir," she stuttered, hoping, praying he hadn't seen her. "Can I help you?"

The steely man, with eyes that scared her, even when they disgusted her, looked beyond pissed. "Yes, for one you can tell me what exactly you think you are doing?"

"Doing, sir?"

"Here! I thought I gave you specific orders. You were to condense the files into a reputable form so that I could present them to the Commander. Have you done that yet?"

Bree gulped avoiding his eyes. "No, sir, I haven't."

Fredricks eyes flashed, and his jaw tightened. Bree felt herself shrink even more into the corner. "And why have you not done this?"

"It's just that," she started, licking her lips. _God, Bree, _her inner voice screamed. _Why are you such a bloody coward?!_

"It's just that Commander Vega asked if I might be able to place some requisition orders into the database, and organize some of the invoices for the last couple of purchases, and since-"

"WHO DO YOU ANSWER DO, DIRCE!?"

Bree flinched, lowering her head. Fredricks coughed when the two engineers started to get up in worry. He gave them a fake smile and grabbed Bree's arm leading her closer to the elevator. Bree felt the urge to rip her arm away, but didn't dare. She'd already been insubordinate enough today.

He leaned down, whispering darkly. "Need I remind you that you have served as my assistant for seven years now? And if it wasn't for my influence you wouldn't even have that little Officer's title stitched to your name. So when I saw do something, I expect you to do it."

Bree nodded, to scared and too weak to talk back. Where, oh, where had all that previous confidence gone? All that hard work for nothing?

"Good. Now, get moving."

When the grip on her arm was released, she ran, turning tail and shoving herself into the elevator as fast as possible. Her breath came in gasps now, her eyes tearing up with shock. Never, never before had Gunnery Chief Fredricks laid a hand on her. Sure he'd been cruel, demeaning her work, taking all the credit, taunting and harassing her, but not once had he ever laid a hand on her.

And that terrified her. More than any giant mutated creature attacking had.

If that was all because he'd been talked down to about his behavior, she didn't even want to know how he would act if he knew that the reason James had talked to him was because he was involved with her.

When the elevator chimed, and opened, she was composed, hiding her eyes. If nothing else, she just had to find a quiet place to hide or a while. That was all. But as soon as she stepped off, she ran right into something.

"Whoa, chica. Didn't see you there. You alright?"

Bree looked up, looked into the warm brown eyes of Commander James Vega, and collapsed.

James swore as Bree fell into him. He hadn't planned for that kind of reaction and almost didn't catch her in time before she fell to the floor. He looked around the CIC, and saw that a few people were staring. Recovering he lifted Bree, the tiny thing that she was, into his arms. He looked around, staring them all down.

"I'll be in Medical if anybody needs me."

"Yes, sir," someone said, and everybody went back to work. They all trusted that Commander Vega would take care of whatever had happened to the young Officer.

He just wished he knew what had happened. He looked down as the elevator descended again to see his Bree crying into his shirt. Voiceless sobs that crushed his heart. Lifting her up closer to his chest, and leaned down to kiss her hair and whispered softly to her. It was all Spanish, which he knew she wouldn't understand, but he also knew she was appreciate the words all the more because of it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as they walked to Medical. "I'm such a coward. I sicken myself."

James gritted his teeth, knowing exactly what had happened.

! #$%^&*! #$%^&*! #$%^&*

When Bree awoke from her stress filled slumber it was near end of shift. She was walking out into the cafeteria, and saw the area nearly deserted, save for a few in the far distance talking to one another. Checking the time again, she saw she had been asleep for nearly four hours.

_Guess all that crying took it out of you_.

Shut up, she ordered the voice in her head, but even that held little heat. She remembered very little about what happened after the Commander had taken her to the medical bay, but she did remember feeling the weight of a kiss and the soft sound of James' accent wisp into her senses.

The soothing words almost brought more tears to her eyes. He had seen her at her weakest and still he carried and appreciated her. It was little wonder she was so desperately in love with him.

Looking around, Bree wandered over to the kitchen, seeing nothing and walked to corner. There was enough privacy to make a call. A call she needed to make.

It connection went through beautifully.

Bree blinked at the face. The beautiful green eyes, sharp and strong, and the pale blonde hair caught her off guard. Before she smiled as memories hit her.

"Hello, Isadora."

The woman smiled back, a dazzling sight. "Hello there, Bree. It's so nice to hear from you. And how many times must I ask you to call my Isa?"

Bree shook her head as if embarrassed. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that."

Bree admired the smooth British dialect that flowed even through the screen. Isa laughed, it was like a birds twitter. "No worries, there was a long time ago I would never have gone by Isa. But I find it's grown on me in the years. So, how are things?"

Bree tried to let a lie come but couldn't find the strength to push it out. "Actually, Isa, not so good. I was wondering if I could talk to Luke for a bit."

"Of course, love. Just give me a moment. He's just outside doing rounds."

As the screen seemed to walk with Isa, Bree looked around to see if anyone else was around. No one.

"Here he is, love. Luke! It's you sister. She wants to talk to you."

The connection shifted, rolled, before Luke's faced pulled on screen.

"What is it? What's the matter? Have you been hurt?"

Bree felt tears almost flow again at the worried and freaked out tone of her only brother left. "No," she sniffled. "I'm fine, really."

"Then why have you been crying. I can always tell when you've had a crying jag. Tell me what's wrong Pop Rock."

It was the nickname, the old stupid nickname that every single one of her brothers had used on her that made the dam burst once more. In a hurried voice she told him everything. Fredricks, the Terminus, and even James.

He listened, quiet through it all, listening like he'd always done. When she had finished and the tears had been reduced to hiccups, he spoke.

"I'm so happy you're in love, Bree. I can't even tell you. And it sounds like you've caught a big one."

Bree chuckled, wiping her eyes. "I didn't catch him, he caught me. The bastard."

"All the same, we'll have to celebrate. You have to bring him here, so I can torture and antagonize him until he promises everlasting love towards you."

"Yeah, sure, you big softy."

The smile dropped, and Luke looked seriously at her. "Bree, you know I've always let you make your own choices, and go your own course. It's what Mom wants for you. It's what she always wanted for all of us. And that's never going to change, no matter what happens to her. But this CO of yours, he's bad news. Power hungry, political scammer if you ask me."

He lifted his fingers and gently touched the screen. "Be careful, Pop Rock. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you. I'd die, if I lost you."

Bree nodded, touching back through the screen. "I know me too."

He nodded. Before smiling, looking back at Isa. "So, guess what?"

! #$%^&~! #$%^&*()! #$%^&

Bree was standing in the same spot, thinking thirty minutes after the call ended. She should be happy. Her brother was getting married; her mother was getting out of Recuperation. And she was still alive. But that incident with Fredricks was continuously running through her mind. Not to mention his conversation with whoever was on the other end. Maybe, maybe she needed to talk to James about it, mention that there might be plans for sabotage or something.

She'd just pop in, and tell him everything. Maybe he'd help her. Find a way to make it better, maybe firing Fredricks, or sending him off. Anything. He'd help her, she knew he would. She stared to walk when a thought popped in her head.

_Aren't we being cheeky with our insubordination?_

No, she thought to the little voice in her head. She was going to ask him as a crew member.

_What if Fredricks expects something like this._

Bree paused, eyes widening. What if he knew? What if somehow in the past months of their new relationship, Fredricks had found out about them? I mean it wasn't so hard to picture. Sure they'd been discrete about the whole thing, but what if someone had seen them, talk privately or some video had captured him giving her those hidden kisses behind the crates in docking. Bree's very avid imagination could just see the look on Fredricks' face, and here the words he would say.

_Fredricks has inside friends._

Yes, Bree shuddered. She couldn't count the number of times she'd received calls from political personnel on behalf of Fredricks. Some really powerful men and women had their ears to Fredricks' words.

"Bree!"

Bree stopped; turning rapidly, scared, but sighed when James walked up from the kitchen. "Chica, I've been calling you for about a minute. You're just standing there with a look on your face."

James smiled, looking around briefly before reaching up to give in to the urge to touch her. After he'd gone, left her in the infirmary, he'd been so worried about her. She'd looked terrified, and hopeless. He never wanted to see her like that again. It ripped him in two. So he'd done what he had to do. But now, he was determined to brighten that face.

"Commander," she stammered, her face blushing. She looked so adorable when she blushed. "I thought you had been busy. I didn't hear you, sorry.

"Just had to take care of a few things, a call to be exact, and it's finished. Are you okay?

Bree sighed, rubbed her hand over her forehead in attempt to ease the headache. "Yes, I'm fine. All better now. Back to being calm again."

"You wound me, chica. And here I thought you melted at my very presence."

Bree's face showed confusion, before she rolled her eyes. It made him laugh. A few months ago, and that gesture would have never been made by the stoically quiet mouse before him. He was happy to see she hadn't lost all of the new her in that last moment.

"Well, if you aren't busy, mi chica. How about joining me for some dinner? It's just after shift, so I was about to grab a bite to eat and head up, but I'd be more than happy for the company."

"Sure," Bree said, smiling happily. "I'd love to, Commander."

James clicked his tongue as he walked to the small kitchen. "Off shift, chica. It's James."

Bree hesitated. Still, the look on James' face made her nod obediently.

"Yes, James." His smile was infectious, and Bree felt her heart beat race at the sight of it. God, how she loved that man. More than anybody else in the world. She took the plate of heated up food from him and followed his retreating form to the table.

She chuckled, sitting across from him. A feeling of déjà vu came to her.

"Remember the first time we were together in this room?"

James looked around, smirking. "Oh yeah, big time, chica. When I almost dragged you to floor right here."

She choked on her forkful of steak.

He grinned, biting thoughtfully into his. "First time I got to see Officer Dirce become the sexy little Bree I now know so well."

"Sir, there could be people listening."

"You've got a thing for tattoos and accent's don't you, mi chica."

Lowering her blushing face down and away from his hungry gaze was hard to do, but she managed it. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do. You were so fascinated with my tattoos; you were licking them and biting them and everything."

"Stop it!" she hissed, but there was little anger and more laughter behind it.

He didn't relent, knew that it was helping. Instead he took another bite to think for a second, before starting again. "For such a slight little thing, you were certainly willing to push me down to the metal. If we hadn't been interrupted, I think we might have made love for the first time in something a lot less comfortable than the bed in my cabin."

Bree shook her head, no longer able to contain the laughter. "You are so mean, Commander. A real jerk."

Bree looked up when he chuckled. He looked so smug. He got a real kick out of embarrassing her. She could see that. Well, a sly part of her thought, two can play at that little game.

"I guess you're right about something though, James. I do have a thing for Spanish men."

He laughed, shaking his head.

"I do get rather hot when you take charge of the situation. Call it what you will. But," she drawled, letting her gaze slip over him. She saw his eyes drift back to her. "I'm not the only one who enjoys a little forceful command, _Commander_."

Bree had the genuine pleasure of watching Commander James Vega's eyes darken, and the heat of them sear her flesh. She smirked right back at the look.

"I've been on top how many times now?"

The dark light in his eyes burst and a small groan was heard. Bree sat there watching him over another forkful of potato and enjoyed the sight of him reeling himself back in. It was thrilling to say the least.

When James finally tightened the reign on his libido back in again, he was uncomfortably aware that his pants no longer fit the same way they did five minutes ago. Shaking his head, he let out a deep sigh of frustration.

"_Dios me libre de__la condenación" _he mumbled, taking another deep breath. "You, Bree Dirce, are a handful."

"Yes, but that's what makes me special."

"Yeah, hey you think maybe since we've got nothing better to do you and me-"

He was cut off when the sound of footsteps echoed into the room. They both looked up simultaneously to find none other than Chief Jake Fredricks walk into the mess hall.

Bree's eyes widened, and she stiffened. James lifted himself shooting daggers at the man in question. The Chief glared at them.

"Just the man I wanted to see."

He trounced up, practically spitting acid. "It was you who called a suspension on me!"

Bree's eyes whipped back to James, who was very slowly standing up from the table.

"You're going to want to take a step back, Fredricks, and think really carefully on how you begin the next sentence out of your mouth."

"You cock-faced jug head! Do you have any idea who I am?! What gives you the right to call a suspension on me?"

"Every right." James stated calmly, glancing briefly at Bree who was trying her best to sink into the floor. No, he thought, don't cower now. Not when you have this chance.

"You were in clear violations of Alliance codes. You in fact faked certain documents, this I know for a fact, Fredricks."

"How dare you, what evidence-"

"You're 'assistant' Fredricks. You always sent her to do the work. After Officer Dirce finished your little tasks, she sent copies to my office. Why?" He stated before Fredricks could interrupt. "Because I asked her to.

Not only that," he continued, stepping forward and moving Fredricks back. "But two engineers from below saw you blatantly lay a physical contact on Officer Dirce, effectively injuring her, and harassing her."

"I did no such-"

"No? Well, the ships logs can prove that easy enough. I've been keeping my eyes on you for a while now, Fredricks. Ever since you boarded the Terminus. I didn't trust you. And it seems my gut feeling was right."

Bree blinked as James took control, and she found herself lifting just a little. Fredricks was helpless, flouting like a fish against the blatant evidence. She couldn't believe it.

"So from today onwards, Fredricks, I am placing back within Alliance hands. Once we reach Earth again in two day time you are off my ship for good."

Fredricks looked over at Bree rapidly, quick, and it slapped Bree back with a force. "You bitch! It was you who did this! It's your fault!"

James lifted a hand before Fredricks could advance, and watched him crumbled under the force he pressed on the shoulder. "I ask that you do not speak that way towards you Commanding Officer, Fredricks."

"What!?" Bree and Fredricks said at the same time.

James turned and smirked at Bree. "You deserve it, Gunnery Chief Brianna Dirce. Called in a favor, and wonderful Hero commented to the board that you should be put up for promotion. And with the comments on all members of the former Normandy on board with the decision, it's been decided."

James turned back, and lifted Fredricks to standing. "So, Bree, now would be a good time to say what you want to say."

Astonished and amazed, Bree looked at Fredricks. She could say anything. After all those years of abuse, she could finally talk back. Finally tell him what she really thought. When she looked at James she just smiled.

"Goodbye, Jake Fredricks. Hope you have a nice life."

#$%^&! #$%^&*! #$%^&*(

Bree still couldn't believe it. She was Gunnery Chief of the V-1 Terminus. What was even more unbelievable was the amount of support the rest of the crew gave her. They all thought she deserved it. It just wasn't possible.

She was sitting in the Commander's room, after a long day of briefing, and talks with officials on the Alliance. She would be on active duty in just a few days' time.

He'd done it all for her. He'd risked that for her. If he'd been wrong, and had accused Fredricks with false charges he could have been court martialed. But he'd risked it, for her.

The doors opened, and Bree glanced up as James walked in. He was leaning against the wall, staring at her. He was smiling, and looked smug.

"Gunnery Chief Bree Dirce." He looked out as if tasting it on the tongue. She had to admit, she'd done it a half a million times and it still sounded new and shiny.

"How?" she wondered out loud. James laughed, walking down and sitting beside her on the bed.

"I didn't lie when I said I called it favors. Shepard put in a good word for you. After I explained everything. She had told the board that even after knowing you for a short time she had every confidence that you would excel in the Alliance. And with the support of the crew, all saying you were a good and decent soldier, it was just natural."

Bree shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. "But I acted like a total fool around all of them."

James nodded, raising a scared eyebrow. "Yeah, that was what sold it to them. They all really liked you. I mean, really! I got a call from Jack saying how we should stop by the Academy for another drink sometime soon. Said she wasn't done grilling us for information."

They both laughed. The thought sounded appealing.

Bree stopped, staring at James. "But why? I mean, why go to all the trouble for someone like me?"

James looked at her, shaking his head in frustration. He stood quickly, catching her off guard, and walked to the fish tank. He was quiet, almost too quiet. But Bree sat and let him collect his thoughts.

His back was too her, hard and strong, something she'd come to love and depend on. She knew he understood and appreciated her own strength. He didn't coddle her, he didn't berate her, but trusted her to do what she was capable of doing. He always knew she could be better. And with him, she realized she was. She wasn't afraid of anything with him around. She could take on the world if he was right beside her, helping fend it off.

"I love you," she said, and watched him stiffen just slightly. "I do, so much. I love you so much."

James blinked, ashamed that he wanted to weep. The words meant more than anything to him. So why couldn't he answer back. What was stopping him. He looked over his shoulder, and stared at Bree.

Just stared.

She was beautiful. A tiny little thing, with a large heart that could be easily broken. She had scars deep within her, just like him, but she carried on. She lived as she could, and now, now that she was finally coming out of the shell he couldn't find any reason not to say those words he desperately wanted to say.

What was stopping him?

Was it the rank? No, he couldn't care less about that shit. Commander Shepard and Major Alenko had done it, even before the ranks had been close. Why couldn't he? Was it some fear of being tied down?

No, Bree wouldn't tie him down. She'd be there, side by side with him while he continued his service, and she'd be there when he was too old to carry on.

So what was stopping him.

Bree stood up then, and he almost jumped at her, afraid she was going to leave. Instead he walked over and reached for her. He watched her eyes, as he leaned down and saw the recognition of the act flitter into the green depths, then the warmth as they closed and she pressed forward to receive him. But he didn't reach down to touch his lips to hers. As the seconds passed, those sea green eyes opened again. "James," she whispered, questions in her gaze. But she didn't voice them. She didn't demand words back. And that was the beauty of it all.

Mi chica. He thought. Wasn't that what he called her? Like he owned her? No, not owned, something else.

"Mi chica," he whispered back, tracing his fingers over her cheek bones. She blinked at him.

"Yes?"

That was it.

James understood. That nickname, those words. She accepted him and everything about him. She had all along. The shy little beauty had stolen his heart from the first glance. He was just too stupid to do anything else besides seduce and bed. But internally, he had been saying it all along.

Bree stared, before she looked up at his eyes once more. The warm brown of them was flashing, so bright it blinded her and she say it, the same look in his eyes that Isa had had in hers. It was the eyes that gave it all away.

"Mi chica," he whispered again, leaning to place a kiss on her forehead, her nose, her left cheek, her right cheek. "Mi chica."

Bree gasped, and almost spoke before his lips crashed against hers. She felt the burst of heat, of energy pour through her and reacted. Throwing her arms around him, she felt her head pound. He lifted her, twirling her around, and she felt dizzy with the sensation.

It had taken them both so damn long to see it, well, to hear it. All the time he'd been saying it. Saying that he loved her.

Mi chica.

It had always been those words.

_A.N: Final note of this story 'Apologies for Grammatical Errors'. Thank you all for the support. I appreciate your patience and the fact that you did in fact read this story till the end. Review what you thought, I always like that! Till my next story! Bye Bye readers! I love you all! James Vega forever!_


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